To Have and To Hold: A Smith Household Adventure
by redwolfhowl
Summary: An old flame decides to look up Dorothy....please be aware this will become rated
1. Default Chapter

To Have and To Hold: A Smith Household Adventure  
  
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Authors' Introduction (Yes, there's more than one person writing this thing, in case you're wondering): First and foremost, the usual disclaimers...We do NOT own any of the following: "The Big O," "Resident Evil," or any of the characters belonging to these series. We ARE rabid fans, however, not only of those two franchises, but of a wide variety of sci-fi, anime, comics, and horror series. All of these have influenced and inspired our little alternative world story, although none are used in it.  
  
  
  
We've made some changes to two of the central characters of "The Big O."   
  
  
  
Roger Smith remains essentially the same, but for the fact that 1) he now shares his home with two unusual females instead of one; and 2) both of the girls happily share his loving attentions.  
  
R. Dorothy is leading a more human life in this world. She is attending college, and also works part-time (she's no mooch! This is HER choice) to support her needs. Her physical characteristics are also a bit different. For one thing, she is now a biodroid, instead of a purely mechanical android (though she will still be referred to as an "android" at times.) She is also a lycanthropic shapeshifter (ie., a werewolf.) However, since she is no longer 100% human (thanks to her cyborg additions) she CAN'T infect Roger or anyone else and make them turn furry.  
  
One other thing to note: Dorothy's not quite the skinny little girl portrayed in the series either. She's grown up a bit. While still a petite 5 foot 2, the lovely redhead has a dancer's curvaceous body now.  
  
  
  
Lastly, we come to the second female in Roger's private life (and no, it's NOT Angel.) This is a wholly original character. Her name is Kirei "Snowy" Snowolf. For the purposes of this story, she was a close friend of Dorothy's prior to Roger's meeting the redhaired android. The phrase both girls use, "pack is pack," refers to the close-knit quality of a wolf-pack, and describes just how close they are. Like Dorothy, she too is a werewolf, and also unable to infect others, though for very different reasons.   
  
Kirei (or Snowy, as those closest to her call her) is a little bit older than Roger Smith. She has large dark brown eyes, pale skin like Dorothy, and waist-length curly hair that shines silver when the light catches it. There is an almost foxy look to her face, despite the fact that she's a wereWOLF, not a werefox. She is Dorothy's height, but very slender, almost delicate looking (built for speed, not comfort, you might say) but don't be fooled by her appearance.   
  
While Snowy might not share Dorothy's android strength and speed, she is quite formidable in a fight. She's good to have at your back in a tight spot.  
  
Fans of "Resident Evil" will recognize the names of Leon S. Kennedy and Ada Wong. If you are NOT familiar with either the game or the movie of the same name, don't worry. That WON'T interfere with your enjoying or understanding what is going on in the story. All you need to know is that Kennedy had been a cop in a place called Raccoon City (for our story here, that is also where he met Dorothy Wayneright before transferring to Paradigm Military Police), and had handled a lot of "X-Files" type cases there. Ada Wong is something like Angel/Patricia Lovejoy...she is mostly out for herself, and will often ally herself with the dark side if the money is right. She also used to date Leon Kennedy for a while (again for our story, that happens after he broke up with Dorothy.)  
  
Now, on to the Smith Household...  
  
**********   
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
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Roger Smith was having a very bad day.  
  
He woke up late for his first appointment.  
  
Got lost on the way to his second (seems he misread his own handwriting, thinking the hastily scribbled "9" was really a "4.")  
  
After getting stuck in traffic for over half an hour, he arrived at his third client's place just as the man was dialing his phone number...to cancel the meeting.  
  
Disgusted, Roger was only too glad to call it a day and go home to his girls. At least they appreciated him...then he vaguely recalled something Snowy had said to him last night. He hadn't really been listening to her, but she had said it was important.   
  
It was something about Dorothy feeling a bit depressed and neglected. Between the redhead's hellish college course-load and demanding part-time job, and Roger's crazy schedule...well, it was starting to get to the girl. She was in desperate need of some quality attention.  
  
Snowy had suggested--well, insisted--that Roger get Dorothy a gift to reassure her. Flowers, candy, a trinket, anything, just a gesture to show he cared. Roger had promised to take care of it.  
  
The truth was, it had completely slipped his mind. It was far too late to get to a florist today. Ah, hell, he thought; one more day won't change anything. I'll do something extra special tomorrow.  
  
The dark mansion was silent when the negotiator got home. Dorothy was still at class. A note on the kitchen table informed him that Norman and Snowy were out doing grocery shopping.  
  
Roger sighed. He hated being all alone in the house. This day wasn't improving at all!  
  
Just as he decided to pour himself a large brandy, the doorbell from the service entrance in the kitchen rang.   
  
Who could that be? Roger wondered as he went over to answer it. Norman usually arranged to be home when he was expecting deliveries.  
  
To the negotiator's surprise, it was a delivery from FTD. It was a HUGE bouquet of luscious red roses, complete with a little card that said "Dorothy."  
  
That Snowy is amazing, thought Roger gratefully as he signed for the flowers. She knew I'd screw up. She must have ordered this to make me look good. I owe her a big "thank you" for this one.  
  
The young man decided he'd better read the gift card so he could play along later. Wouldn't be very smart not to know what he was supposed to have written. He quickly opened up the dainty envelope and read: "Found you at last!" There was a big heart drawn beneath the words, and it was signed with the initials "L.K." This WASN'T from Snowy trying to cover his butt.  
  
The day's ill-luck crashed down on Smith. Oh crap! he thought. Did Dorothy have a secret admirer? Was THIS why Snowy had been so insistant the other day?  
  
As Roger miserably pondered this unpleasant development, Dorothy came home from college.  
  
The petite redhead was tired and, well...tired. All she wanted was a slice of Hershey's sundae pie and to fall asleep on the sofa watching "Zoids."  
  
She wandered into the kitchen to get herself the chocolaty treat and was quite surprised to find a frantic Roger trying to dispose of a huge bouquet of roses. Between her exhaustion and the distraction of the gorgeous blooms, she didn't notice the dismayed expression on Roger's face at her unexpected appearance.  
  
"Oh, Roger," she cried out, pleased. "They're lovely! Where did they come from?"  
  
In a moment of unthinking panic, Smith managed to pocket the little card without the sleepy android noticing. "Uh, they're for you, poppet," he said smoothly, finding a smile. "From me. With love."  
  
Dorothy smiled and took the flowers in her arms. "Oh, you," she said, blushing happily. She stood on tiptoe to kiss the young man's smooth cheek (Which he enjoyed greatly. Maybe things were beginning to go his way?)  
  
"I'm going to get a vase for these," the pretty redhead said, and left the kitchen, forgetting all thoughts of pie. This gift was even sweeter.  
  
Roger heaved a sigh of relief, applauding his own quick thinking in heading off another potential disaster.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Meanwhile, in another part of Paradigm city, a young sexy policeman wondered about a certain delivery to a very special someone. After all this time, would a bouquet of flowers be enough to mend the past?  
  
Officer Leon Kennedy decided to call the nearest Godiva Chocolate shop and order a special delivery on the store's answering service. It was time to pull out some of the big guns.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Late that afternoon, Kirei returned home with Norman. She was in the middle of helping the butler put everything away when a joyous Dorothy dragged her into her cozy bedroom.  
  
"Look!" the lovely redhead squealed, pointing to the glowing flowers. "I can't believe how sweet Roger is, he's such a darling! Aren't they beautiful?"   
  
The girls hugged; then Kirei returned to the kitchen to finish helping Norman. As she quietly made her way back, she spied Roger nervously pacing the hallway.  
  
"Hey," she said, buttonholing him. The slender brunette pulled him down and gave him a big kiss and a hug.  
  
Pleased but confused, Roger smiled down at her. "What's that for? (Not that I mind)" the negotiator asked his second girl.  
  
"For listening to me, and doing something sweet for Dorothy. I'm proud of you, love," replied Kirei, smiling back at him. After giving his mouth another quick kiss, she turned and went on her way to help the butler.  
  
Roger smirked, pleased that he'd caught the problem so fast. What was he worried about?  
  
~~~~~  
  
It was Dorothy's turn to share Roger's bed that night. Thinking he'd better just go to sleep, that he was on the roll of his life right now, he wrapped an arm around Dorothy and pulled her close for a kiss.  
  
She smiled blissfully, then said, "Roger, thank you again. The flowers are beautiful."  
  
Feeling a little guilty stab in his heart, the negotiator nuzzled her soft cheek and whispered, "I do love you. You know that. More than anything."  
  
The biodroid embraced him. She whispered back, "I love you too, Roger." They fell asleep in each other's arms.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The next day brought an early morning delivery to the Smith Household. Norman was too busy to answer the door and asked Kirei to do so for him. She opened the service doorway. A young delivery boy stood there, clearly straining beneath the weight of an enormous gleaming box from Godiva Chocolates.   
  
The brunette brought it into the kitchen just as Roger sleepily wandered in, searching for some morning coffee. He noticed the box in the girl's arms (it WAS impossible to miss, even in his not-quite-awake state) and then glanced up at Kirei, catching her brown eyes.  
  
She winked at Roger (assuming the gift was from him) and carefully placed the golden box down on the kitchen table. She quickly slipped over to him and gave him a loving hug.  
  
"You really are the most wonderful man in the world," she said cheerfully, then kissed him deeply on his mouth. "Dorothy is going to be so pleased." Smiling, she went off to help Norman prepare breakfast.  
  
Roger simply couldn't believe this sudden change in his luck. He figured he was going to be Boyfriend of the Year, all at the expense of Dorothy's mysterious admirer.   
  
  
  
Later that evening, he teased the redhaired girl with a chocolate, saying, "I remembered how you like things that melt on the tongue."   
  
Dorothy smiled. "After last Valentine's, how could you forget?" She pulled him close for a kiss, then took the chocolate. "Mmmmm...chocolate," she purred happily.  
  
Roger put the box aside and kissed her again. "Mmmm..." he whispered against her soft lips. "Kitten." She giggled, then began to kiss him in other places...  
  
~~~~~  
  
Down at Military Police HQ, Officer Leon Kennedy was struck by an even better idea after going through the recent spate of traffic tickets. He found an unused typewriter in a relatively quiet corner of the station. "For the attention of Dorothy Wayneright..." he began to type on an official envelope... 


	2. chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
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It was early Wednesday morning. Dorothy had already left for class. Kirei was going through the morning mail when she noticed an official-looking letter for "Miss Dorothy Waynewright." The pre-printed return address was for the M.P.H.Q.   
  
Concerned, she put it with the rest of the mail addressed to Roger. If Dorothy was in some sort of trouble, he would know what to do.   
  
Well aware that the negotiator hated waking alone, she brought the mail into his bedroom and placed it on the nighttable beside him. She then stripped down to her underwear and slipped into bed beside him.   
  
Smith, not quite awake, turned to face her. He cuddled her close, happy to have an armful of half-naked shewolf to keep him warm. "What are you doing here, Snowy?" he sleepily teased her. "It's not your turn til tomorrow." He tickled her neck with his lips.  
  
Kirei giggled. "I brought your mail...there's something important about Dorothy..." Roger kissed her mouth, breaking her train of thought..."and, uhmmm, I wanted to know what you wanted for breakfast, love."  
  
Roger kissed her again and began to undress her. "I think I'll have YOU for breakfast, little one..."  
  
Later, with Kirei happily worn out beside him, Roger started to go through his mail. He found the letter addressed to Dorothy.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Roger came out into the living room, holding a letter. "Poppet, did you take the Griffon out again?"  
  
Dorothy thoughtfully chewed a mouthful of doughnut. "Whom, meem?" she mumbled around the treat. She took the paper from him and saw that one of the many cameras newly installed by the DOT on traffic lights had caught the Griffon going through a red light.  
  
"Oh, darn," she muttered, embarrassed. She swallowed the bit of doughnut. "I guess I ran a red light when I went to the mall to look for that catsuit."  
  
Roger shook his head and plucked the letter from her dainty hands. "I'll take care of it, kitten. I'll talk to Dastun."  
  
Dorothy took the notice back. "Says here I have to go down to the station and pay it myself." She shrugged her slim shoulders. "Oh well. I don't mind."  
  
Roger sighed. "At least let me drive you."  
  
The biodroid giggled. "In the offending vehicle?" 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
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Dorothy asked Kirei to come to the police station with her to keep her company. "It's always busy, Snowy, so I know there'll be a wait. Besides we can go out for lunch and shopping afterwards."  
  
"Sounds good to me," smiled Kirei. "Shall I drive?"  
  
As the two girls kissed Roger before leaving, Roger pulled Kirei aside fo a moment. "Keep an eye on things when you get there, Snowy--make sure Dorothy doesn't explain her way into a bigger fine, ok?"  
  
"Don't worry, love," replied Kirei. "Pack is pack. We always watch out for each other."  
  
Roger sighed, watching his girls leave. Somehow he still didn't feel any better.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Just as Dorothy had predicted, the station was busy. The new cameras had picked up dozens of people. As a result, Dastun had been forced to set up several officers to handle the tickets, each in their own little cubicle.   
  
Dastun noticed the girls standing on line shortly before it was Dorothy's turn to pay, and came over. "Cleaning up after Roger again, ladies?" he teased.  
  
Dorothy blushed. "No, it was my fault this time." She shrugged gracefully. "I'll be more careful."  
  
Kirei suddenly spoke up. "Major, did that tip Roger gave you ever pan out?" (She was referring to some info Roger had gotten from Big Ear.)  
  
Dastun nodded. "Yes," he said. "In fact, I have something for him too. Come with me to my office and I'll give it to you."  
  
Kirei glanced at Dorothy. "Oh, go ahead," the pretty android said. "I promise I'll behave."  
  
"I'll be right back," said Kirei, following the Major to his office. He dug through a huge pile of stuff on his desk. "Roger's quite a remarkable man, isn't he?" said Dastun, as he rummaged through everything. He glanced covertly at the slender shewolf.  
  
"Yes, he is," she smiled, her dark eyes sparkling.  
  
Dastun found the envelope he was looking for. "May I ask you something personal, Miss Snowolf?"  
  
She shrugged. "Sure."  
  
"What makes Roger so special that a woman like you would be willing to share him? Don't you want someone all for yourself?"  
  
"But I'm in love with Roger, and I love Dorothy too. She's like a sister to me. Why would I mind sharing him with her? Why are you asking me these questions?"  
  
Dastun shrugged this time. "Just curious, I guess." He handed her the envelope. "But if you ever decide you want more, you won't have far to look." He looked at her again, not so covertly this time.  
  
Disturbed, Kirei quickly left to look for Dorothy. She spotted the lovely redhead entering a cubicle, and dashed over to join her. A very handsome young blond officer was behind the desk. He smiled at Dorothy, a very knowing smile.   
  
That's strange, thought Kirei. She glanced at her packmate.  
  
Dorothy's face was pale with shock, then she blushed deeply. "Leon..." the redhead whispered.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Roger suddenly realized the handwriting on the ticket matched that on the gift card that came with the roses. This was not good.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Well, well." The officer tented his fingers, looking like the lightning-saix who ate the canary. "I see you still drive like Mr. Magoo."  
  
"I see you're still a tease," Dorothy said softly, trying not to smile and failing. He had the kind of smile that demanded you return it.   
  
"You look so surprised to see me, Red," he said, still smiling. "I would have thought you'd have guessed by now."  
  
"Guessed?" she asked. "Guessed what?"  
  
"That I was here." He arched a brow. "Didn't you get my flowers?"  
  
"Flowers?" she asked, blinking cutely at him. "I haven't gotten any..." She blinked green eyes again, and something slid behind them. "They must have gotten lost," she finished. "Leon, I'm so sorry!"  
  
"Sorry? Don't be! I'm sorry, I wanted it to be perfect." He stood and crossed in front of the desk, eyes suddenly sliding dark, for things whispered in quiet corners. "Why don't things ever go as I plan with you?" he said, the smile becoming a little wicked.  
  
"Things rarely do," Dorothy said absently, the hand holding the ticket dropping to her side. Leon would have said more, but he caught a flash of movement. "Who's your friend, Red?" he asked, his eyes flicking jovially over to the side.  
  
"Friend?" Dorothy asked, as if the word were alien to her. Then she seemed to wake like a dreamer, turning to the side and becoming the android who tripped on her own feet and sang the song from Ruroni Kenshin at the top of her lungs. "Oh! Kirei, this is Officer Leon S. Kennedy. Leon, this is Kirei Snowolf, my packmate and dearest friend." The redhead's smile could have melted a glacier.  
  
The cop's own smile blinked back on, and Leon held a hand to Kirei. "It's nice to meet you."  
  
"My pleasure," Kirei said, shaking his hand.  
  
"So, Leon--Officer Kennedy," Dorothy corrected. "How much do I owe you?"  
  
"Why don't you follow me, and we can discuss it in here?" he said, indicating the deeper recesses of the cubicle with a flick of his head, which sent his forelocks over his eyes. Seeing Kirei's apprehensive look, he gave her a wink.   
  
"I'll just steal her away for a minute."  
  
Once alone, the wickedness crept back into the smile. "Tell you what, Red," Leon said. "I'll rip this up for you."  
  
"But how will I pay the fine?" she asked.  
  
"You could have dinner with me." Truly wicked smile now.  
  
She blushed bright as blood. "Oh...no...I couldn't. Leon, I'm involved with someone..."  
  
His smile never dimmed. "Dorothy, I've missed you. Don't I at least get the joy of your company for a night?"  
  
She smiled, couldn't help it. "You are going to get me in trouble."  
  
"Because I love to get you out of it." He grinned. "Think it over." He gently disengaged her hand from the ticket. "I've got work to do. Worse drivers than you, even! See you around, Red." He left her with a wink.  
  
Dorothy walked slowly out of the cubicle, eyes focused on the wall ahead of her, but not really seeing it. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
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The redhead's mind was racing in a million different directions. Roger had lied to her about the roses, and maybe the candy as well...she felt heartsick. Had Snowy known about the lie? Was she part of the cover-up? And Leon...ah, wicked, sweet, dangerous Leon...how had he found her? Why had he searched for her?  
  
She looked at her packmate. The brunette's face was anxious. Why?  
  
"Dorothy, are you alright? You're so pale--what happened back there?" Low-voiced, Kirei continued: "Do you want me to talk to Officer Kennedy?" Kirei wondered if the whole station knew Dastun might be interested in her. Was that what the handsome young officer told Dorothy in private? She gently touched her packmate's shoulder. "Dorothy?"  
  
The android shook her head. "No, I don't want you to talk to Le...Officer Kennedy, it's not necessary." She paused to look closely at her friend. Kirei looked back, unflinching and warm. "I'm hungry, Snowy. Let's get out of here."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Dorothy's mood over lunch was oddly mercurial. She alternated between brooding silence and nervous chatter, and drank a little too much wine.  
  
Kirei watched and listened carefully as her packmate rambled. The pretty redhead had brushed off her attempts to find out exactly what happened. The older she-wolf decided the best she could do for her packmate was simply stick by her side. Dorothy would talk when she felt ready.  
  
Dorothy insisted on going shopping next. She seemed a little more herself as they wandered the aisles at Bendels. "I'm sorry for acting so weird, Snowy. I just got very shaken by a couple of things."  
  
Kirei felt herself tighten; that cop DID say something about the major, she fumed internally. She didn't say anything about it, asking only instead if Dorothy had known Officer Kennedy before.  
  
The redhead nodded, then changed the subject to the rack of cocktail dresses on display before them. She pulled out a silky cinnamon-russet one, cut to bare the wearer's shoulders and bosom daringly. The gleaming fabric echoed the red-gold of her sleek hair perfectly. "What do you think?" she asked, draping it against herself.  
  
"It's very beautiful," replied Kirei admiringly, "but you know Roger won't let you wear it unless it's black."  
  
Dorothy's mouth tightened. "Roger doesn't own us, you know. He's not our spouse, not our boss. Screw his house rules--I'm buying it." She pulled out another dress, this one a rich indigo. "This would look great on you, Snowy."  
  
"Dorothy, what's wrong? Please?"  
  
The redhead ignored the questions, asking her own instead. "Were you home when the flowers came, Snowy? Did you see if a card came with them?"  
  
The brunette shook her head no. "I was grocery shopping with Norman. I didn't know about the roses til you showed them to me. You know that."  
  
Dorothy turned to face her packmate, studying her. Her green gaze bore into Kirei's bewildered brown eyes. "What about the chocolates? Was there a card? Did Roger say he ordered them?"  
  
"I didn't see a card. Maybe it was inside, but I didn't look...and no, Roger did not say he ordered them. I assumed he did, but he never said it, at least not to me. Why, Dorothy? What's going on?"  
  
"You swear he didn't say anything to you, about either the roses or the candy?" Dorothy's voice was strangely tight, like she was trying not to cry.  
  
"Of course I swear! Dorothy, you know I'm always honest with you...what's wrong? What did I do? You're scaring me!" Tears glimmered in Kirei's eyes.  
  
Dorothy sighed and hugged her. "I believe you, I knew you didn't do anything, but I had to be sure! I'm sorry I scared you," she kissed Kirei's cheek, "but I can't discuss this any further yet. You are going to have to trust me, and not say anything to Roger about any of this. Promise?"  
  
Her pale face was pleading.   
  
Despite her misgivings, Kirei gave her word. After all, pack was pack. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
*********  
  
" 'Go LIGER!' "  
  
The TV blared loud enough to compensate for the silence of the girl watching it. She sat motionless, not even smiling at Harry's antics.  
  
Kirei was even more unnerved by the silence than she had been by the earlier outburst. She peeked in, and the girl on the sofa offered a chocolate from the mysterious candy box without taking her eyes off the command wolf.   
  
Kirei accepted the chocolate and sat down beside the redhead.  
  
" 'Looks like the only one who got any target points was...Leena,' " came the voice from the TV.  
  
Dorothy gestured to the television. "I don't understand. I KNOW that's funny, but I just can't laugh..."  
  
Kirei rubbed a gentle hand up and down her packmate's back, and it seemed to comfort the redhead.  
  
"I'm sorry about before," Dorothy said, turning liquid green eyes on her packmate.  
  
Kirei put a reassuring hand on Dorothy's shoulder. "When you're ready to tell me, I want to help."  
  
Dorothy smiled. "Hopefully there won't be anything to help with," she said, as the teaser for the next episode came on. She rose and walked towards her room, as Roger stepped in front of her.  
  
" 'Ready........fight!' " the TV blared.  
  
"How'd it go today?" the negotiator asked.  
  
"Fine," she answered, looking with empty eyes at his face. "Snowy and I went shopping after..."  
  
He smiled at her. "Oh? Did you have a good time?"  
  
She smiled. "Yes, there was a beautiful dress, you would like it on me..."  
  
He grinned and kissed her hand. "You'd look beautiful in anything..."  
  
She blushed.   
  
"...just as long as it's black," he finished.  
  
Dorothy's eyes widened, waiting for the joke. "Roger! Honestly!"  
  
He shook his head, still smiling. "You know the rule," he said as he kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. "Do you love me?" she said, softly, looking up at him.  
  
He was confused by the question, by her tone. "Of course I do. You know I do."  
  
"Say it." Her voice was flat.  
  
He touched his lips to hers, so gently. "I love you," he said, pronouncing every word, that she might hear and understand.  
  
She nuzzled his cheek, absently.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Meanwhile, Kirei was debating whether or not to tell Roger what Dastun had said to her in the precinct. This whole situation was a mess.  
  
"Snowy?" Roger asked, running a hand through his hair as he walked into the room. "What happened today? Dorothy isn't herself."  
  
That, Kirei thought, was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Dorothy looked at the bag on her bed. Reaching in, she brought out a soft cinnamony something to drape in soft folds over her hip.  
  
(You'd look beautiful in anything...I love you....of course I do!....)  
  
How did she know he wasn't lying about that too?  
  
Her entire body felt tired and weak. And she couldn't tell Snowy, at least not yet, couldn't talk to anyone....  
  
....well, there was SOMEONE.....  
  
(No,) she told herself fiercely. (No. You can't.)  
  
(He lied to you!) another voice argued. (He deserves it! What's the difference?)  
  
She shut her eyes tight. "No. No..."  
  
She was all alone. No one to turn to.   
  
Almost drowsily, she picked up the phone.   
  
"I'll put you through. Please hold."  
  
There was silence, then, "Kennedy."  
  
Dorothy took a breath. "I have an outstanding traffic ticket I need to take care of," she said.  
  
She could hear him smile over the line. "Well, ma'am, I'm not at liberty to discuss that here."  
  
She couldn't help smiling too. "Where can I meet you?"  
  
"How about here, tomorrow night? I'm off early. We can go out for dinner."  
  
She felt her lips twist. "I know exactly what to wear." 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
Kirei leaned against the balcony ledge, watching the full moon rise over the city's skyline. She felt like howling but didn't, knowing the neighbors would later complain. What the hell was going on? The day had started so nicely (she grinned, remembering how Roger had had her for "breakfast") then everything had fallen apart around her. She was so confused.  
  
Roger was annoyed at her for not keeping a better eye on Dorothy. Dorothy was annoyed at her for...for what? She had no real idea, but it seemed to be something concerning the two gifts she had received. There was something that disturbed her terribly. Did Dorothy know that she had advised Roger to get her something? Did she think she was interfering in her relationship with Roger? Was that why the redhead seemed upset with him as well?   
  
Then there was Dastun. Kirei hoped she had quashed that. She decided not to tell Roger. No reason to ruin that relationship over something already nipped in the bud. The two men had their differences, but they knew they could rely on each other.  
  
Kirei sighed deeply, feeling very much alone. The two people she loved best, trusted most, were both ticked off at her. There was no one to talk to, to ask for advice...not even the moon.  
  
The negotiator sat at his desk, reading over the message Dastun has sent him. It seemed the case Roger was helping him with had to be a touch more hands-on. Dastun needed a civilian to accompany him on some surveillance work, someone who would be believable as cover. He had asked if Roger would do so, making it look like a boy's night out on the town. Unfortunately, Roger had an important meeting of his own scheduled with a new client. There was no way he could break it. Perhaps one of the girls...Dorothy? No--she was too young. There would be jokes about cradle-robbing. He smirked--Dan would never forgive him. Besides, Dorothy's current moodiness might put her in danger, and he couldn't risk that.  
  
Perhaps Snowy?--Yes! Snowy would be perfect--not too young, not too old--steady, reliable, observant (well, except for today...what HAD happened? It was so out of character.) He left his office to look for her. He wandered into the living room. Roger could see her through the great windows, gazing at the moon. Maybe I was a little hard on her earlier, he thought. Dorothy can be a real handful when she wants to be. Maybe Snowy could use a break from both of us.  
  
The negotiator went out to join the slender shapeshifter. He took the end of her braid in his large hand, tugging it gently, then fluffing the tassel of brown hair.  
  
"Hi," he said, looking at her profile.  
  
"Hi," she replied, still looking at the moon.  
  
"Snowy, do you have any plans for tomorrow night?"  
  
Surprised, she turned towards him. "No. Why?"  
  
He smiled, seeing the moonlight twinkle in her dark eyes...yeah, he thought, Snowy definitely needed a break from the mansion, this would be good for her.   
  
The shapeshifter smiled back. Take THAT, Dastun! she thought. She hadn't had Roger all to herself for an evening out in a while...only to have her hopes promptly dashed with Roger's next sentence.  
  
"Good! Then you can accompany the major to 'Lucky Chang's.' I'll tell him you'll be his date for the evening. You'll enjoy it, I'm sure."  
  
He left her to phone Dastun.  
  
Kirei stood there speechless, stunned by his words. Was it possible he WANTED her to be with Dastun? Could it be he didn't want her anymore, and was simply too nice to tell her outright? She slid to the floor, utterly empty.  
  
That night, Roger found himself alone in the big bed. Puzzled, he decided to see what his girls were doing.  
  
He entered Dorothy's bedroom first. She looked positively angelic as she slept, her bright hair framing her sweet face like a flaming halo. Her kitten Perot was cuddled in her arms; lucky guy, thought Roger.   
  
Gently, so as not to wake her, he stroked the smooth side of her face with his knuckles, then kissed her forehead. "I DO love you, poppet, more than you could possibly know," he whispered. She smiled softly, as if she could hear him in her dreams.  
  
He left her quietly and padded down the hallway to Snowy's room. Maybe she thought he wouldn't want to spend the night with her after their morning encounter. He smiled broadly, remembering how fierce she'd been beneath him. Perhaps she'd like something slow and gentle tonight. Something to show how much he appreciated and cared for her.  
  
He found her shapeshifted and fast asleep in the middle of her bed, her silvery fur glowing in the moonlight streaming through the window. How odd, Roger thought. She rarely shifted for sleep unless something was bothering her. She felt safer that way. He wondered, not for the first time, if she'd been human or wolf originally.  
  
The young man knelt on the floor beside the bed and stroked her white muzzle. He was rewarded with a sleepy lick on his hand. Roger buried his face in the thick soft fur of her neck, nuzzling her. "I'll always need both of my shewolves, sweet Snowy. I love you with all my heart, little one," he murmured in her pointed ear. It twitched, but she didn't rouse, her breathing deep and slow. He kissed one snowy paw, then stood up.  
  
Sighing, the negotiator returned to his cold bed. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
*********  
  
Dorothy was dreaming...  
  
She was padding barefoot in the hallway, wearing the cinnamon dress. She had to hurry to her room and change, before Roger saw her...  
  
Flinging open her bedroom door, she was mildly annoyed but not surprised to see a golden tiger lounging on her bed.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping inside, forgetting to shut the door behind her.  
  
(You know why. You sent for me,) was the answer.  
  
"No, I didn't. You're not a shapeshifter," she retorted.  
  
(No, I'm a metaphor,) the tiger said, rolling lazily on the bed.   
  
"You shouldn't be in here."  
  
(Come here.) The tiger batted a golden tufted ear at her.  
  
Unable to resist the explicitness of the command, she crawled onto the bed on her knees. He was like a beacon of heat and light beside her, his heartbeat a distant thunder.  
  
"I have to go," she said, not moving.  
  
(Stay with me. Don't go.) His paw was featherlight on her thigh. He rolled gracefully to lap at her cheek, her lips.  
  
She tried to turn away. "No. You shouldn't kiss me like this," she protested weakly.  
  
(You're mine now. Stay?) he purred in her ear.  
  
"No..." She sank weakly down to cuddle in his fur, his tongue a broad caress...  
  
"No, no!"   
  
Dorothy sat up, flinging poor Perot from her chest. it had been his tiny tongue that woke her.  
  
I'm a metaphor, he'd said.  
  
Dorothy cuddled the kitten, who happily cooperated with more kisses, and sniffled.  
  
  
  
~~~~~  
  
Roger caressed the red hair, brushing a kiss across her cheek. "Poppet, aren't you feeling well?"  
  
She sighed, shrugged. "I think I'm going to call it an early night. I love you, Roger," she said almost absently.   
  
He pulled her into his arms, feeling her body beneath the silken bathrobe she was wearing. He held her tight, as if he'd memorize the way she felt against him.  
  
"Just remember I love you," she murmured as she let him go.   
  
He was puzzled, but let it go, holding her for one last kiss.  
  
Dorothy watched him go, taking in every line of his body. Then she turned to walk in the opposite direction, untying the bathrobe. Beneath it was the cinnamon dress. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
*********  
  
Roger walked to Kirei's room, but his thoughts were full of his sweet Dorothy. She had not been herself at all the last few days, and neither he nor Kirei could ferret out the reason. He wondered if the stress of school and work had worn her down (he'd told her she didn't have to work, but she had insisted, not wanting to mooch.) Perhaps she had picked up a virus?   
  
The negotiator stuck his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out two small boxes. He opened them, admiring the gleaming gems inside. Roger HAD listened to Kirei, but got jewelry, not roses, and for both his girls. He wondered if he should return to the redhead with the gift, but decided against it. If she wasn't feeling well, it was more important that she rest and recover. Dorothy was more precious than any glittering trinket. It could wait til she felt better. He put the boxes back. Roger also decided not to say anything to Kirei about her packmate not feeling well. Knowing her, she'd insist on staying home with the android. Kirei needed to get out. She needed some fun.  
  
He knocked on the bedroom door.  
  
"It's me."  
  
She opened it, already dressed for the evening. Roger's eyes widened in dismay--it HAD been too long since the shapeshifter had gone anywhere special! She'd forgotten how to dress for an evening out.  
  
Kirei had chosen a sober, modest, high-necked business-suit. Every button was buttoned, concealing her from neck to knees. Her shoes were sensible flats. Her hair was skinned back into a tight bun. She didn't seem to be wearing any make-up.  
  
She looked like a poster-child for the Salvation Army.  
  
"Snowy, that's not appropriate--I will NOT let you embarrass yourself publicly that way!" He frowned.  
  
She looked down at herself. "Wrong color stockings?" she asked, glancing down at the opaque black hose on her legs.  
  
The young man sighed. Both his girls were behaving so strangely--was this one of those mysterious pack things?  
  
"This is my fault," he said, kissing the crown of her dark head, then heading to her closet. Roger rummaged through it, finally pulling out something sleek and velvet. "Put this on," he ordered. He went through her shoes next, choosing a delicate pair of heeled satin pumps.  
  
Roger watched her change, telling her how to do her hair, her make-up, guiding her transformation.  
  
"Now that's the way I like to see you," he purred, admiring the results of his prodding.  
  
Kirei's hair was still tied up, but softly, as if it would tumble like a waterfall of curls at the slightest touch. Delicate tendrils framed her pale face, setting off her now smoky eyes and rosy mouth.   
  
The midthigh-length dress was one Roger had bought for her. It was a favorite of his, both for the elegant way it looked on her and the ease of removing it. The bodice was a deeply (yet discreetly) cut heart-shape, with delicate shoulder straps that criss-crossed the even deeper cut back (leaving the wearer essentially naked from nape to waist.) The whole thing was an inky stretch velvet that gently followed every curve. Sheer black stockings and the dainty pumps completed the outfit.  
  
Kirei looked at their reflections in the mirror, her eyes fixed on Roger's expression. His pride in her appearance shone in his face. What was going on? She couldn't take it anymore. She had to know the worst.  
  
"Roger..."  
  
He interrupted her. "One last touch," he said, pulling out a small black box from his jacket pocket. He opened it to be sure it was the right one, then showed it to her.   
  
Kirei gasped. Inside was a pair of what seemed to be tiny platinum and diamond bracelets, cast in the shape of delicately feathered and coiled ferns. The tiny round gems glistened like dew on them. A single tear-shaped diamond hung on one.  
  
"These are earrings," explained Roger as he carefully slipped them on her. They coiled softly around the top and bottom of her ears, framing them like lace. The single large diamond trembled from one lobe like a water-drop, catching the light like a prism.  
  
The negotiator stepped back, watching the rainbow twinkles on her face. He reached out to stroke the side of her cheek with his fingertips. He smiled...the jewelry gave her an elvish look.  
  
The phrase "lovely consolation gifts for our departing players" rolled through Kirei's mind. She blinked hard, twice. She had to know...  
  
"Roger, please..."  
  
He bent down and softly kissed her mouth, hushing her. She kissed back passionately (please don't throw me away Roger please, she cried silently.)  
  
For a moment they clung to each other. Then Roger put his warm hands on her shoulders and firmly pushed her away. He was breathing hard; it took him a moment to compose himself. He wiped her lipstick off his mouth and stepped back from her.  
  
"I have to go, little one. Dastun will be here shortly to pick you up. Have a good time."  
  
He left abruptly.  
  
Kirei was more confused than ever.  
  
~~~~~  
  
About five minutes later Norman appeared at her door, holding her black evening coat.   
  
"The major is in the living room, Miss Snowy," he announced. He could not help noticing how unhappy she looked as he helped her slip on the velvet coat.  
  
"Is everything all right, Miss Snowy?"   
  
Her mouth tightened for a moment; she then asked if Roger had said anything before he left.  
  
"Only that you looked especially beautiful tonight...and, if you don't mind my saying so, he's absolutely correct." The elderly butler handed her her little satin purse and smiled.   
  
Weakly, she smiled back. "Thanks, Norman."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Dastun was standing, gazing out the great windows when she quietly entered the living room. He saw her reflection in the glass and turned towards her. "You look lovely, Miss Snowolf," the major said. He smiled with genuine pleasure.  
  
"So do you," replied a very surprised Kirei. She hadn't expected him to look so good. Dastun was dressed in an elegant dark evening suit, beautifully cut to show off his powerful frame. The major wasn't a handsome man, but he fairly radiated with an exuberant masculinity.  
  
Norman watched as the pair left. He shook his head to himself. If the dark-haired shapeshifter had been his girl, he would never have agreed to this. Roger was asking for trouble. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
*********  
  
Leon Kennedy smiled at the redhead as she approached, like a bit of the dying day that was lost on her way to tomorrow.  
  
"Boo," he whispered, drawing close to her.  
  
She turned, mildly surprised, a vision in a russet dress, then smiled. "I don't think I've ever seen you in a dinner jacket."  
  
"I don't think I've ever seen you in heels." He chuckled. "We've got some catching up to do."  
  
"Okay, but no running in these shoes." She smiled, eyes twinkling. "Now, officer, I believe I have an outstanding traffic ticket to take care of," she said, crossing one leg behind the other.  
  
"I think," Leon responded, his eyes going drowning blue, "that I'm going to like this assignment."  
  
Dorothy arched a brow at him, then said, "Tyger!/ Tyger!/ Burning bright/ in the forests of the night./ What immortal hand or eye/ doth frame thy fearful symmetry?" She speared him with a glance and added, "Did He who made the lamb make thee?"  
  
Leon smiled warmly. "Usually I couldn't get you to recite poetry until after we'd eaten."  
  
She couldn't help but laugh.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Dorothy couldn't understand why the suicide rates in the city were so high. Who could hate a world that had salmon in it?  
  
"What are you smiling at?" she asked, pointing at Leon with a fork.  
  
"You. You look so content."  
  
She mistrusted that remark, and decided to see if he still thought she looked content with bulging hamster cheeks. She attacked the salmon. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you eat with utensils, either," she pointed out.  
  
"You make it sound like we never did anything fun," he accused with a laugh.  
  
She couldn't help but smile. "No, we had fun."  
  
He sighed. "So, tell me about you. Tell me what you've been doing." He raised an eyebrow at her, smirking.  
  
"Tease me and you're getting a lemon twist in your eye," Dorothy threatened, then shrugged. "I go to class. I work. I run red lights." She smiled.  
  
He chuckled. "Tell me about the guy you're 'involved' with."  
  
Dorothy frowned. She didn't want to talk about Roger. She shrugged. "It's me, and Roger, and Sno--Kirei."  
  
"Kirei?" Leon remembered the other woman at the police station. He looked at Dorothy very intently for a second.   
  
"What? What is it?" she asked nervously. He was about to judge her, she could tell.  
  
But he didn't. He just smiled and shook his head. "He must be quite a strong man, this Roger."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked. "He is."  
  
"He must be," Leon repeated, and suddenly there was a heat in his eyes that reminded her of the tiger in her dream. "I would never, ever share you."   
  
She shivered under the intense gaze, trying to look stern, but her face softened against her will. "Leon..." She reached across the table, to him, without knowing what she planned to do.  
  
But he smiled, and suddenly the change came over his entire being, like a shapeshifter--he was the same old Leon again, sweet and teasing. He caught her reaching hand and brushed his lips across the knuckles, eyes twinkling. "I bet I know what can make you smile."  
  
"What's that?" she asked, not taking back her hand, desperate for the promised smile.  
  
"They have cherry cheesecake."   
  
She giggled.  
  
  
  
~~~~~  
  
"You'd better let me off here," she said.  
  
"No way. A gentleman always escorts a lady to her door."  
  
She hit his shoulder, laughing. "Since when are you a gentleman?"  
  
He thought about it. "You're right. Since when are you a lady?"  
  
She snorted, not helping her case. "But seriously. I'd better get out here. I kind of lied about what I was doing tonight."  
  
Leon frowned at her in mock disapproval. "First running red lights and now lying. Hop off the outlaw train, Red, before you land in jail."  
  
She shook her head, smiling. "Roger won't like it if he knows I was out with you. He'll think you were trying to steal me away."  
  
Leon grinned, to use the appropriate term, a skinning of lips back from teeth.   
  
"I'd say he shouldn't worry, but..."  
  
The silence finished the sentence.  
  
"Leon," Dorothy said warningly, but probably more warning to herself than to him.  
  
"Don't worry." The officer shook his head, more at himself than at her. "I wouldn't try to ruin what you've got, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about it."  
  
Dorothy had no answer for it, mostly because she was afraid she was thinking along the same lines herself. She had to get out of the car, now. "Well, I had a wonderful time tonight," she said sincerely.  
  
He liked that and smiled. "I want to see you again."  
  
"Oh, I don't know," she began.  
  
"Not as anything," he amended quickly. "You don't have to wear that gorgeous dress and the heels." He smiled, looking her over. "You can wear your black jeans and your leather jacket, and I'll wear sneakers, and we'll go through the drive-thru."  
  
Dorothy returned his grin, and realized what a mistake this was going to be, even as she recited her cell-phone number. That bill was hers; she'd insisted on paying it herself and Roger never opened it.   
  
"Well, then, let me sneak back inside." She started to get out of the car but he caught her wrist, eyes twinkling, smile positively wicked.  
  
"Hey, if you're going to kiss me off, I want my kiss."  
  
She frowned, but it was getting increasingly hard to frown around him. "This isn't really cheating. THAT would be cheating."  
  
"Then you owe me fifty dollars for running the red light," he said immediately, drawing her back into the car.  
  
"One day honest citizens are going to stand up to you crooked cops," she snickered, kissing his cheek. "And that's all you're getting, so I'm getting out of the car and you're driving away."  
  
Leon smirked and recited, "I would not come in. I would not even if asked, and I hadn't been."  
  
Dorothy laughed. "Insult to injury, you recite Frost."  
  
"Hey, you're lucky," Leon said. "You usually couldn't get me to recite poetry till after--"  
  
"DRIVE," she laughed, stepping out of the car.   
  
"--Till after dessert!" he finished, chuckling and pulling away from the curb.  
  
She shook her head, still laughing.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Leon Kennedy squinted; the glare of the red light seemed especially harsh.It might have been a mistake to take her out, a mistake to take her number, but he hadn't been able to resist. He'd been honest with her, and she'd still given the number to him.  
  
It was selfish of him, perhaps, but he couldn't stay away. He wondered if it were possible for anyone to hold onto the redhead, or if she were always like the light of the dying day, slipping into someone else's tomorrow. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
**********  
  
  
  
The short drive to "Lucky Chang's" started off a bit awkwardly. It soon became obvious to Dastun that his lovely companion was preoccupied. Their small talk was stilted and forced; her terse responses weren't helping. The major began to wonder just what Smith had told her about the evening's plans. As they neared the entrance and the waiting valet, he finally asked her if she knew the reason for the date. She shook her head no.  
  
"I'm sorry, I guess Roger and I both dropped the ball on that one." He explained the surveillance mission and the need for a believable cover, and that Smith thought she'd be suitable. He didn't tell her that she was taking the negotiator's place.  
  
Kirei's dark eyes widened in surprise. Why hadn't Roger bothered to tell her this, instead of just lending her out to the major as if she were his car? Now she felt anger as well as hurt from his actions. Who did he think he was, volunteering her like this? Dorothy's comment about his not owning them echoed in her mind.  
  
Well, this wasn't the major's fault. She wouldn't ruin the evening for him; besides, she'd never been to "Chang's" before and was curious.  
  
"That's okay, major," she said, as he opened the door for her. "I appreciate your honesty." She placed her small hand in his large palm as she left the car. It was the first time she had touched him, and Dastun decided he liked it. He smiled, and somehow the expression changed his craggy face for the better.  
  
"Call me Dan. We're supposed to be on a date, remember?"  
  
She smiled back, her eyes twinkling. He liked that even more. Dastun was still more pleased when Kirei left her evening wrap with the coat-check girl. She was spectacular to look at, her pale skin contrasting with the black fabric and heightening her sensuality. Every male head swiveled in her direction. It had been a long time since the major had been the center of such envy, and he rather liked it. He briefly wondered if it was always like that for the negotiator. Somehow it didn't seem fair for Roger to have two such companions.  
  
The target of the operation stayed only briefly. When he and his party left (dogged by several other undercover officers) the evening was free for Dastun to enjoy.  
  
Kirei proved to be an excellent companion. She was elegant, yet totally without pretense. She was what she was. She didn't titter in embarrassment at the performers in drag. Rather, she appreciated and understood their artistry and humor. She didn't feign a dainty appetite, picking at her food to appear lady-like. Kirei enjoyed her meal (lamb in black bean sauce) to the last bite, making Dastun wonder if she indulged other appetites with equal gusto. She was genuinely interested in what he had to say, and wasn't afraid to disagree, making her arguments with clarity, grace, and good humor. The major hadn't enjoyed himself this much in a very long time.  
  
It was when he was dancing with her that he realized three things: 1) he knew nothing about her, other than she lived with Smith and the redhead; 2) he wanted to sleep with her; and 3) she'd probably be very easy to fall in love with.   
  
Stick to #1, Dastun, he told himself. Dancing (it felt so natural to have his hand pressed against her naked back) would probably be as physically close as he would ever get. Falling in love would be sheer stupidity. How could he compete with Roger Smith? The man was handsome, young, rich...on the other hand she did not have the negotiator's undivided attention. That nubile redhead had been there first, and probably required a lot of upkeep. Perhaps he DID have a chance--but he would have to tread carefully. He did not want Smith as an enemy.   
  
Over dessert (fresh lychees, kumquats, and pineapple in a light wine syrup) and tea, he asked her about herself.  
  
"You're more mysterious than Smith. What did you do before you met him?"  
  
She shrugged. "Pretty much the same things I do now--I work, I live my life; nothing special." She picked up a jade green lychee with her chopsticks and offered it to him. He accepted, his mind racing...she doesn't live off of Smith?  
  
"I'm surprised you work. Doesn't Roger support you? What do you do?"  
  
Kirei gave a half-smile, dimpling one cheek. "He offered to, but that's not my style. I've never asked Roger for anything, not materially anyway. Ever hear of 'Whitewolf Studio?' That's mine."  
  
"Whitewolf Studio" was well known throughout Paradigm for its jewelry and art pieces. Several of the well-heeled patrons of "Lucky Chang's" were decked out in one-of-the-kind pieces from there. Dastun was stunned. "YOU own 'Whitewolf?'"  
  
"Yup." The shapeshifter nodded. "I don't need Roger's money...or anyone else's, for that matter."  
  
That meant Roger's money isn't holding her, Dastun thought. It also means my lack of it wouldn't be a problem. Things were suddenly starting to look up. He decided to get a little more personal. Shyly, he placed his large hand over one of hers. She didn't pull away.  
  
"How did you meet Roger anyway? Were you a client of his, or was he one of yours?"  
  
"Neither. Dorothy and I...sort of run in the same circles." Dastun knew nothing of pack. Kirei was not about to explain it, nor shifting either. Some things were best left alone.  
  
"So you met through Dorothy..." That sort of explained the triangle, maybe...or maybe not. There were all sorts of rumors floating about the negotiator and his harem, ranging from the lewd to the ridiculous.  
  
The evening sped by far too fast for the major's taste. As he drove her back, he knew he wanted to see her again, but he couldn't simply ask her out. What could he use as an excuse? Oh, of course!  
  
"Kirei, this IS an ongoing surveillance operation. To be believable, it would help if you continued to be seen with me. Would you mind doing that?"  
  
God, that sounds so lame, he thought. Will she believe me?  
  
The dark-haired woman leaned back in her seat, her face thoughtful, then shrugged. "Sure, why not? Anything for the public good." She pulled a business card from her purse and handed it to the major. It was printed with the name of her studio, its address, and a cell phone number. "You can reach me directly this way."  
  
Dastun insisted on escorting her to the mansion's entrance despite her protest that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. He gallantly kissed her hand before letting her close the door. Dan hummed to himself as he drove home. This was going to be interesting.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Kirei's mind was spinning. She had to talk to somebody, anybody--but who? She sighed. Norman was busy with the Big O's maintainance and was probably up to his neck in wiring. Roger wasn't home yet. She decided to take a chance on Dorothy.  
  
The shapeshifter padded down the hallway to the redhead's bedroom and knocked on the door. "Dorothy?" A soft rustling answered her. Cautiously, Kirei opened the door, not wanting to wake her packmate if she was asleep. Perot greeted her instead, surrounded by bits of a shredded shopping bag.  
  
The room was in disarray. Several pairs of dressy shoes were scattered about and the jewelry box was open. It was obvious that her packmate had gotten dressed up hurridly.  
  
They waited for me to leave so they could have a private evening out, thought Kirei. Numb, she went to her room. I'm in the way, and they don't know how to tell me...maybe I should go...but it didn't seem right to simply disappear. The situation didn't make sense.  
  
Dorothy would tell her if there was a problem, wouldn't she? They had always been honest with each other--that was the way of pack. The android had been friendly, if unusually subdued, earlier.   
  
As for Roger...she removed the earrings he'd given her and looked at them. They were beautiful and obviously made to fit her features. A lot of thought went into his choosing them. She relived how gently he had put them on her, the way he had kissed her, how tightly he had held her--and how he pushed her away.  
  
This had all started with those two gifts. Somehow they were the key to the puzzle.   
  
"What's going on?' she murmured to herself. She needed to think. Kirei decided to shift and go out for a run. Maybe that would clear her head. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
**********  
  
Kirei slipped into the night as if she were part of it, and maybe she   
  
was. It welcomed her with open arms.  
  
A howl perked her ears, startling her. She whirled to see not a wolf,   
  
but a man, his face raised to the sky with an expression of perfect   
  
happiness as he hooked his arms over the roll bars of his Jeep to better   
  
bask in the moonlight.  
  
He dropped back into the Jeep, disappearing from even Kirei's night   
  
vision. The Jeep turned in an achingly lovely tight curve before   
  
jagging down the street, leaving only the winking brake lights to sting the   
  
eyes.  
  
Kirei loped off. It seemed the entire city felt the need to howl.  
  
~~~~~  
  
There was something about stumbling home in the wilted remains of an   
  
evening ensemble. It dogged the feet and weighed down the eyelids.  
  
As Dorothy slid out of her shoes, losing two inches of height but   
  
feeling much more like herself, a rush of courage came over her. Time to   
  
tell, to fall on her knees and beg Roger's forgiveness. But the light   
  
shone harshly on an empty bedroom, and empty bed, leaving Dorothy rather   
  
empty.  
  
Frightened and heartsick, she ran down the hall to Kirei's room, hose   
  
slipping on the floor. She needed to collapse in Snowy's lap and cry,   
  
tell her packmate everything. Snowy would make everything all better.  
  
Again, she was greeted by an empty room. She sighed, a single tear   
  
slipping past her nose, and trudged slowly back to her own bedroom,   
  
brushing it away. If she'd told Snowy the truth from the beginning,   
  
everything would already be okay.   
  
Back in her own bedroom, Dorothy suddenly realized that Roger and   
  
Snowy were probably together. The realization chilled her with fear, not   
  
of being replaced but of her own weakness, which frightened her even   
  
more. If they were beginning to think that three wasn't company anymore,   
  
it would make it that much easier to give in to Leon's advances.  
  
Chilled to the bone, Dorothy slammed the door and locked it, as if   
  
doing so would keep her safe from the outside world. She kicked off the   
  
hose, not caring if she snagged it.   
  
"You're trapped by your own lies is what it is," a voice declared,   
  
startling her. She whirled to see the intruder, but only her own eyes   
  
stared back, from the full-length mirror on the back of the locked door.  
  
"I'm serious," her reflection continued. "If you'd been honest with   
  
Snowy at the precinct, or honest with Roger about the flowers, or   
  
honest with Roger about your past with Leon..."  
  
"Stop it." Dorothy clamped her hands over her ears.  
  
When she uncovered them, the reflection was silent. She stared at it,   
  
her green eyes wide and shocky. The red dress hurt her eyes. How   
  
pretty it was! How lovely she felt in it!  
  
Roger's voice echoed in her head, amidst the screaming already there.   
  
"If you live in this house, you wear black."  
  
She felt the tears sting her eyes and heard Snowy: "You know Roger   
  
won't let you wear it unless it's black."  
  
She slid to her knees, covering her face, still hiding, still hiding,   
  
but the voices wouldn't stop.  
  
"I would never, ever share you," Leon vowed.  
  
"Roger doesn't own us. He's not our spouse, not our boss," her own   
  
voice said.  
  
"No," Dorothy choked out weakly, uncovering one eye to glare at the   
  
mirror.  
  
Her reflection stared back, just as frightened, hiding, a vision in a   
  
russet dress.  
  
"Who's the fairest one of all?" Dorothy whispered with a little laugh,   
  
twin tears sliding from her eyes.  
  
"You are," the reflection seemed to promise, "you are."  
  
With a tiny cry, Dorothy curled to the floor and shifted, the dress   
  
voicing its pain in an unheard tearing. It shredded on the floor, bright   
  
as blood.  
  
Dorothy rose from the carnage, a she-wolf the color of cinnamon and   
  
gold. With a leap that caused reality to shimmer, she jumped onto the bed   
  
and sprawled out, bright as a wound amidst the sheets.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The first indication that the dream had begun was the falling.  
  
It was slow, like Alice's tumble down the rabbit hole, but she didn't   
  
believe the ground's promise to catch her. A golden flash beneath her   
  
caught her eyes, made her reach out. Her arms locked around solid   
  
warmth; a body braced her and took the impact of the fall, carrying her   
  
safely away in a smooth gait. Smooth, everything about him was so   
  
smooth...  
  
She slid down from his broad back and buried her face in his soft,   
  
thick fur.   
  
(I had a dream I was your hero,) he told her, one huge paw stroking   
  
down her back, claws safely sheathed.  
  
"Why me?" she asked, a chill wind ruffling the tattered skirt of the   
  
red dress she was wearing.  
  
(Why not?) was the answer.  
  
She rose to her feet, and he walked alongside her. When she stopped,   
  
so did he, his eyes fixed good-naturedly on her.  
  
"What is it?" she asked.  
  
(I don't want to walk behind you.) He twitched an ear.  
  
She sighed. "Then you go in front."  
  
(No, I don't want to lead.)  
  
She squeezed her eyes shut tight. "What do you want?"  
  
(My place is here.) He seemed to smile at her.  
  
She started to walk again, and he stayed close beside her. She   
  
tentatively reached a hand to touch his strong shoulder.  
  
(Don't be afraid,) he told her, looking at her.  
  
"No, I'm not, I...I just want to feel that you're there." She blushed,   
  
trying not to meet his gaze, feeling the strength sliding beneath his   
  
fur, his solid warmth.  
  
(I am. I'll always be here. I want only to be here, beside you,   
  
always.)  
  
She relaxed, feeling suddenly safe.   
  
(What are you thinking?) he asked, looking towards her.  
  
She smiled. "That these dreams are not a stranger place than the one   
  
I left behind."  
  
  
  
~~~~~  
  
She woke smiling.  
  
She was cold, and realized suddenly it was because she was nude   
  
beneath the sheets. She'd shifted back in the middle of the night. That it   
  
had happened without her conscious control should have bothered her,   
  
but for some reason it didn't.  
  
The clock said 5:09. Psych class awaited. She groaned inwardly. It   
  
had been stupid to go out on the date when she had to get up this   
  
early.  
  
She sat up, realizing she'd just called it a date.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Roger knocked on the doorjamb, eager to surprise Dorothy with the gift   
  
he had for her before she left for class. But the redhead was already   
  
gone. The clock said 6:06.  
  
He smiled. What a little soldier. She'd gotten up even after she   
  
hadn't been feeling well the night before. He was so proud of her...  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Colin."  
  
A boy obediently raised his hand.  
  
"Tova."  
  
"Here." A girl looked up.  
  
"Travis is here...Julie is here...Dorothy?"  
  
Silence.   
  
"Dorothy?"  
  
Still no answer.   
  
"Moving on. Jillian?..."  
  
~~~~~  
  
The week was shaping up to be one of the best of Leon S. Kennedy's   
  
life. A date with his long-lost Dorothy, bleeding into a day off--could it   
  
get any better than that?  
  
Yes, it could, he realized upon taking a shortcut through the park.  
  
She was sitting cross-legged on a bench, almost huddled in her   
  
well-loved leather jacket. She had her elbows propped on her knees and her   
  
chin propped on her hands. She was watching the penguins play, green   
  
eyes intense but not smiling.   
  
"RPD, put your hands where I can see 'em," he called, catching her   
  
attention. She turned her head to look, her blood-bright hair moving as   
  
if it had a life of its own, falling straight just above her shoulders.   
  
"You're under arrest for being too damn good-looking," Leon continued,   
  
reclining on the bench beside her.  
  
It got a smile out of her. "This is why I hate you."  
  
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh?"  
  
She explained: "I can never be in a bad mood when you're around. You   
  
always jolly me out of it."  
  
He grinned. "I live to serve. Why are you in a bad mood?"  
  
"Oh." She waved a hand dismissively. "It's nothing you've got to   
  
worry about. It's no big deal."  
  
Everything concerning her was a big deal to him, but being a seasoned   
  
observer of her, he knew that if he pushed her, she'd dig her claws in,   
  
and they wouldn't get anywhere. He would wait for her to tell him.  
  
"Say, don't you have class today?" he asked, arching a brow.  
  
She turned back to the chunky flightless birds in front of them. "I   
  
sort of skipped."  
  
He shook his head. "Not a good habit."  
  
"Oh, so now you're a truant officer as well?" she snapped.   
  
Immediately her face fell and she turned toward him. "Oh, Leon, I'm sorry..."  
  
"No worries, angel tears," he said, smiling gently. "It's okay."  
  
The old nickname rang something in her, a little bell that she hadn't   
  
realized had been silent for a while. She cocked her head to the side,   
  
studying his face, waiting for things to go very wrong very fast, but   
  
the comfortable feeling remained. Even the silence was warm and   
  
familiar.  
  
"What about you?" she asked, punching his arm lightly with a ghost of   
  
a grin. "What are you up to today?"  
  
He smiled beatifically. "It's my day off. And I'm thinking it should   
  
be yours, too."  
  
She looked the question at him, green eyes unsure.  
  
"Really, Dorothy," he said, reaching to tip her chin up. "You deserve   
  
a little fun."  
  
She gave him a tiny smile. "Okay."  
  
~~~~~  
  
The little bell in her was ringing furiously half an hour later. Leon   
  
would have swam a thousand oceans for that laugh.  
  
"Did you see her face when you ordered? She was wondering what the   
  
hell you could possibly have been thinking!"  
  
"I was thinking about the free toy, of course," Leon snorted, as if   
  
she should have known that. To prove his point, he opened one of the   
  
Happy Meals and searched it.  
  
He grinned. "All right, the Command Wolf! If we come back next week,   
  
I can get the Raynos and I'll have a whole set." He teased her with the   
  
small plastic zoid until she giggled.  
  
"Silly." Dorothy took a crescent-shaped bite of her cheeseburger.   
  
"Silly? Oh yeah?" He grinned, digging for the hamburger in one of the   
  
meals. "Somebody obviously doesn't remember eating here every weekend   
  
one summer because she was trying to collect Beanie Babies."  
  
Dorothy laughed, not a vapid giggle or an unattractive bray, just her   
  
way of letting the world know she was happy. Leon thought it was   
  
beautiful.   
  
"I remember. I can't believe someone would elbow a mother of two in   
  
order to get Zip, the cat."  
  
Leon smirked. "But I did it anyway."  
  
She smiled. "My hero."  
  
"Hey, I didn't do all the work. YOU stepped on her hand." He winked   
  
at her.  
  
She laughed. "Yeah, I did do that, didn't I? But we got the cat. I   
  
still have him!"  
  
The laughter was giving way to something warmer, something that wasn't   
  
trapped in the past. "We made a good team," he said.  
  
"Yeah." Her eyes were green-grey, dreamy, as if she were listening to   
  
inner music. "You were more than my boyfriend. You were my best   
  
friend."  
  
He smiled. She was sweet enough to melt in the rain.  
  
She suddenly picked up her vanilla milkshake, sipping. "All this   
  
serious talk is making me tired. Let's make fun of the other patrons."  
  
He grinned, couldn't help it. "Okay, let's start with you."  
  
She wrinkled her nose, sticking out her tongue at him.  
  
"Hey, don't stick out your tongue unless you intend to use it!" he   
  
warned.  
  
She snorted. "Leon!" She shook her head, smiling. Happy Meals,   
  
indeed!  
  
~~~~~  
  
"You awake over there?" Leon stretched a hand over the grass and found   
  
the smoothness of her palm, the cool thin band of a claddagh ring.  
  
"Yeah..." She sighed. "I shouldn't have eaten that last sugar cookie.   
  
It made me drowsy."  
  
"Serves you right for stealing it from me," he chuckled.  
  
"Mou (Jeez)," she snickered back. "Always on the job!"  
  
"Nah, not today," Leon sighed contentedly, looking over at her. She'd   
  
taken off her leather jacket and used it as a pillow for her head,   
  
exposing her long-sleeved midriff top. There was something about the long   
  
sleeves that made her exposed stomach that much more sexy. Black jeans   
  
and a chain belt completed the outfit. Her boots were kicked off to   
  
the side, something comfortingly familiar--she was most comfortable   
  
barefoot, and had never worn shoes if she could avoid it.  
  
Her hair was very bright against the jacket, her green eyes at   
  
half-mast. She looked content and sleepy. He somehow felt she was just as   
  
beautiful now, if not more so, then she had been in the red cocktail   
  
dress. She looked so comfortable, as if she could get up now and disappear   
  
to places only she knew, and it would be all right. He had a fierce   
  
desire to press his ear over her heart to feel it beating and fall asleep   
  
against the sound in the arms he'd never forgotten.  
  
He shook his head as if doing so would quell the desire. She belonged   
  
to another man now. What he was doing was wrong.  
  
But being with her felt so right. She felt it too-he could tell.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up. "So quiet."  
  
He sighed, telling her the truth before he realized what he was doing.   
  
"Just wondering how I managed to let you get away from me."  
  
She sighed, not angry, not judgmental. "It wasn't either of our   
  
faults. I went to school, you were assigned in Raccoon. Things   
  
just...changed."  
  
"But why did we let it happen?" He sat up, to better see her face.  
  
She smirked now, and her tone was amused and bitter, but mostly   
  
amused. "That Wong woman you were seeing for a while had nothing to do with   
  
it, of course."  
  
His face was caught between frowning at her and smiling over the   
  
jealous edge in her voice. "We were all wrong for each other."  
  
"I saw that woman. There was nothing wrong with her." Now the edge in   
  
her voice had upgraded to a full set of jealous teeth. "Dark hair,   
  
cool clothes, nice complexion, legs than went on forever. And let's not   
  
forget that amazing pneumatic chest."  
  
He shook his head and smiled. "Maybe Ada was beautiful, and maybe she   
  
was built, but she did have flaws."  
  
She arched a brow skeptically. "Oh yeah? Name one."  
  
His eyes were drowning blue. "She wasn't you."  
  
She drew back the smallest bit, her green eyes suspicious, searching   
  
his face. The suspicion bled away, slowly being replaced by awe.   
  
"I'm sorry, angel tears," he said, just above a whisper.  
  
"For what?" she asked, just as softly.  
  
"For this. Please forgive me," he said, drawing her close and   
  
pressing his lips to hers.  
  
She gasped softly against his mouth, her hands rising to push at him   
  
gently, to say her usual, no. But something stopped her. It wasn't   
  
quite the running-stag clamor of his heart beneath her hand, or the   
  
almost-chastity of the kiss, just the warmth of his lips trembling against   
  
hers, or the safe feeling that wrapped itself around her heart when he   
  
was near-more like all of those things together. There was nothing but a   
  
spring sky in his eyes-no secrets, no lies, no Machiavellian plots, and   
  
something in her was tired of saying no.   
  
He released her quickly, didn't try to hold her. He turned his face   
  
away, ashamed of himself, of his weakness, of enjoying it. "I'm sorry,"   
  
he repeated.  
  
She reached for him, turning his face toward hers. "Thank you," she   
  
said softly, her eyes twinkling.  
  
"For what?" he asked, trying to smile.  
  
"This has been the most perfect day off for me," she said softly.   
  
"Just perfect."  
  
He suddenly didn't have to try anymore.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Grr!" Dorothy giggled, chomping the tiny plastic Gunsniper with the   
  
tiny plastic Command Wolf. "Grr."  
  
Roger smiled as he watched her, kissing the top of her head. "How was   
  
class today?"  
  
"Sucked, as usual," she said cheerfully. She positioned the gunsniper   
  
on top of a nearby tissue box and made gun sounds before knocking over   
  
the command wolf. Then she giggled.  
  
Roger chuckled. "Where'd you get the toys?"  
  
"Went to McDonald's on my break."  
  
"Oh, that's right, today's your long break," Roger said, passing a   
  
hand through her hair before heading into the study.  
  
(You have no idea,) Dorothy thought, then went back to her battle. 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
  
**********  
  
Kirei headed for the park. It was the closest thing to wilderness in the city and she needed to cut loose.  
  
She glided silently through the undergrowth, raced across the broad lawns, paused to play tag with one of the park's resident foxes.  
  
It was wonderful to simply be for a little while, to not think about anything except exploring...yet even this didn't last.   
  
Her sharp ears caught the sound of someone sobbing. She followed it to its source, curious about its cause. She became infuriated when she discovered the reason.  
  
A little girl had her back pressed against a tree, a much taller youth groping her.  
  
"Please, no," begged the girl as he laughingly started to push her down.  
  
How dare you! thought Kirei and she growled low. She charged at the boy, knocking him down, then sat on him, her paws braced against his arms. Her gleaming teeth brushed against his throat, and he closed his eyes, terrified.  
  
The little girl stood there frozen, confused by the sudden turn in events. Kirei glanced up at her and yipped sharply to break the child's trance, then returned her unwanted attention to her captive.   
  
The girl fled.  
  
The shapeshifter waited til she was certain the child was long gone, then leaped off the boy's chest. She loped away, a silver ghost vanishing into the darkness.  
  
"To serve and protect," drummed through her mind, the old programming rising unbidden from her memory. That's what we were bred for. She stopped in her tracks. Shinji, she thought. I should visit him while I'm here. It's been a long time. I wonder how he and Jenny are.  
  
The shapeshifter made her way to the little zoo in the center of the park and gracefully leaped the back fence. She trotted to the wolf exhibit and began to whine and scratch at the bars. There was a comfortable den at the back of the exhibit; a magnificent black wolf, even bigger than Kirei, came out cautiously.  
  
He caught her scent and began to frantically wag his handsome tail. He swiftly padded over and greeted her nosily, whining, touching noses, and sniffing joyously. His eyes glowed molten gold in the moonlight. He stuck a huge paw through the bars and caressed the pale fur on her neck gently.  
  
Awakened by the commotion, a tiny grey wolf cub waddled out of the den, curious to see what what was going on. The black male watched approvingly as Kirei and the pup touched noses. It was his and Jenny's.  
  
She couldn't stay long, and Shinji knew it too. He licked her face, picked up the pup by the scruff of its neck, and returned to the den's entrance. He gave her a long look before going in.  
  
Kirei turned away and headed for home. Shinji had been her alpha and she had been his, long before she knew Roger or Dorothy, before the breeding experiment they had both been part of had been deemed a failure and terminated.  
  
All of her old pack had either been put down or dehumanized. Shinji had been stripped of all his humanity, and mercifully of all his memories and human intelligence too. Only the ghost of his love for her remained.  
  
Kirei had survived, had escaped, purely through a clerical error. Some tech's carelessness had saved her from Shinji's fate.   
  
She sighed. Maybe he had been the lucky one, not her. At least he seemed content.  
  
The shapeshifter entered the mansion well past midnight. She padded down the hallway, claws softly clicking on the floor. She paused before the doors of both her packmates' bedrooms.  
  
She desperately wanted to burst in, leap onto their beds and beg forgiveness for whatever wrong she had committed--but she couldn't.   
  
Love couldn't be forced or begged for. It either lasted despite all obstacles, as with her Shinji, or it vanished like a summer's rain. If they no longer had room for her in their hearts, she would know soon enough.   
  
Quietly she went to her room, shifted and washed off the remains of her wanderings. She slipped into a black tee shirt and panties and went to bed.  
  
She dreamt of Shinji in his human phase...how she loved his generous smile, his laughing almond-shaped eyes, his long black hair. She hugged him, happy to see him again. He kissed and hugged her back, then snapped a choke-collar around her neck, complete with chainlike lead.  
  
"What are you doing?" she cried, frightened. He knew she hated to be controlled.  
  
(Your destiny) he replied unsmiling, his beautiful golden eyes full of sadness. A smoke-grey she-wolf joined him at his side. It was Jenny.  
  
He turned and handed the metal leash to Roger.   
  
Gently, the negotiator pulled her towards him, careful not to tighten the choke collar. He reached out and touched the cruel links, but instead of removing them they became diamond-studded. He lifted her in his arms and kissed her mouth, then put her down.  
  
"Roger?" she asked softly, reaching out towards him. He shook his head, his black hair falling into his eyes. A cinnamon and gold she-wolf stood beside him now: Dorothy.  
  
Roger stretched his arm out, passing the leash towards Dastun. Another man in shadow stood behind the major, and still another behind him as well.   
  
"But why?" she whispered, frantically trying to remove the collar.  
  
(This is our purpose) said Shinji. (To serve and protect, or be as I am now.) He split in two, one half human, one half wolf. The human half withered to dust before her.  
  
~~~~~  
  
She woke to the sound of her cell phone ringing. It was Dastun. He wanted to get together that afternoon, something informal. She thought about it for a moment, then agreed. After all, she HAD said okay the night before; it was for the public good, right?  
  
Kirei dressed (jeans, running shoes, fitted tee shirt, bulky pullover--all in black, of course) and slipped down to the kitchen for a hasty breakfast. Norman greeted her as he bustled about. No one else was around. Dorothy was in school, of course, and Roger? The brunette wondered if he was in bed, debated whether or not to go to him. She decided to see.  
  
He was in bed, not quite awake, not quite asleep. Roger smiled when he saw her stick her head around the door. He patted the surface of the bed beside him.   
  
Kirei slid next to him, happy to be cuddled. She sighed contentedly as he kissed and petted her. Maybe I was imagining everything, she thought. Maybe Roger simply forgot he hadn't asked my okay first before sending me out with Dastun--he HAS been awfully busy lately.  
  
"So, little one, how did the evening with Dastun go? Think you'll do it again?" There was no jealousy in his voice, only curiousity.   
  
Kirei didn't know if she should consider that a compliment, that he trusted her so, or another indication that he was gently trying to push her in the major's direction.  
  
"It was alright," she replied hesitantly. "He's asked to see me later today for something."  
  
Roger nodded, smiling. "Don't be late, Snowy," he said, stroking her cheek. "Dastun was always a stickler about that." He chuckled.  
  
Kirei closed her eyes, holding back the sudden sting of tears. If she stayed, she'd break down. She was NOT going to put him on the spot like that. The slender shapeshifter sat up.   
  
"I've got to go, Roger."  
  
She kissed his mouth with great tenderness, then fled before he could react.  
  
She's so responsible, Roger thought. Dastun will have no trouble with this operation at all.  
  
He touched his lips, a bit regretful that he'd let her dash out like that. She probably has some important errands of her own to take care of before meeting with the major, he thought.  
  
Both his girls made him so proud. The negotiator smiled as he stretched luxuriously in the big bed. He brushed his thick hair out of his eyes. The three of them would have to do something really special together soon. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
  
**********  
  
Leon Kennedy lightly touched the tiny plastic command wolf that was   
  
now occupying pride of place on his desk. He had no pictures of her,   
  
because she felt she didn't photograph well. He could understand why she   
  
might feel that way. Trying to keep a picture of her would be like   
  
trying to trap her in a cage. She wasn't meant to be caged.   
  
He smiled at that thought. The only cage she'd ever allowed herself   
  
to be locked in was his embrace. He remembered the first day...  
  
~~~~~  
  
)|(Officer Leon Kennedy was glad he wasn't on duty. He wouldn't have   
  
looked too good heading into the precinct wearing the dripping remains   
  
of an iced coffee.   
  
"Oh, mou. I'm so sorry!"   
  
He found himself looking down at a red head, bright as blood. She was   
  
mopping up the rest of the spilled drink, wearing a white apron over a   
  
black skirt so short it might as well have been a lampshade. He   
  
figured as long as she didn't bend directly from the waist she'd be okay, but   
  
he had a feeling this hadn't been the first klutz attack of the   
  
evening.  
  
She raised her face to look at him. "I'm really sorry." Her eyes   
  
were green, a pair of pale jewels opened and closed in her eyes. A blush   
  
stained her skin, which looked even paler beneath the harsh lights.   
  
Short red hair was escaping from a clip at the back of her neck, pieces   
  
falling to frame her face.  
  
He smiled reassuringly at her. "Hey. I knew this outfit needed   
  
something more," he joked. "Iced coffee is perfect."  
  
She bit her lip. "Is it what you ordered?" she asked in a tiny   
  
hopeful voice.  
  
He couldn't help laughing as he shook his head. "Not even close."  
  
"Damn." She smacked her hands down against the floor, but returned his   
  
smile. "God, let me clean you up."  
  
"Oh, no--Dorothy!" a voice cried from the other end of the room.  
  
"I've got it, Naomi, really!" the redhead said quickly, cheerily, as   
  
if she'd been saying it all night.  
  
The girl named Naomi rushed over, brushing brown hair out of her eyes.   
  
"I'm sorry, sir. Your order's on the house." She turned to the   
  
redhead. "Take your break."  
  
"No, Naomi, I can--"  
  
"Take your break," the brunette repeated, adding, "PLEASE," in a   
  
pleading tone.  
  
The redhead blanched. "Okay."  
  
Leon sighed, brushing at the stain on his arm. It wasn't too bad.   
  
She'd gotten most of it on the table and floor.  
  
Giving the tiled floor one last swipe, she sighed. "Listen, I'm   
  
really sorry."  
  
"No big deal," he assured her. "I take it I'm not your first casualty   
  
of the night."  
  
She blushed and smiled, shaking her head. "No."  
  
He motioned to the empty seat across from him. "Want to have a seat?   
  
She did say you're on break now, right?"  
  
The redhead laughed and sat down. "Yes, and if she has her way it'll   
  
be permanent."  
  
Leon smiled. "What's the death toll so far?"  
  
She sighed. "Three broken glasses, five screwed-up orders, one ruined   
  
apron, and one drenched customer." She motioned to him.  
  
"It could have been worse. You could have spilled something hot on   
  
me." He smiled. "Dorothy, right? My name's Leon. It's nice to meet you."   
  
He offered her his hand, and she shook it. He felt the strength of her   
  
grip, the cool band of the claddagh ring on her finger.  
  
She reached for a napkin, swiping absently at his sleeve. "I'm such a   
  
total klutz."  
  
"It could have happened to anybody," Leon argued.  
  
"No, I was moving too fast, carrying too much. I just...don't know my   
  
own strength, I guess." She laughed nervously.  
  
"Hey, don't worry about it." Leon smiled.  
  
Someone was motioning from across the room. "Uh oh. I'm being paged.   
  
I've got to go." She stood up, shaking her hair back. "I'm sorry I   
  
spilled that coffee on you, again."  
  
"I'm starting to become glad you did," Leon told her with a smile.  
  
She blushed, winked, then turned and she was gone.)|(  
  
~~~~~  
  
He may have been the first man to trap her in his embrace, but he   
  
certainly wasn't the last. A frown slashed Leon's features as he thought   
  
of Roger Smith. What, the young cop wondered, does he have that I don't   
  
have?  
  
What was so great about him? He forced Dorothy to wear black, to follow   
  
rules that didn't make sense, and she didn't even have his undivided   
  
attention--there was that other woman, Kirei. She was a mystery, too.  
  
Leon knew he could have held onto Dorothy, but he'd screwed everything   
  
up. Now the rain was spreading all over the parade. He felt a fierce   
  
anger towards the negotiator, for the black clothes, for the   
  
helplessness in Dorothy's eyes when he'd mentioned the flowers. That pain had   
  
never been there before...  
  
(Oh, Dorothy,) Leon thought. (I remember those days, but I didn't   
  
understand. I miss her, and her sweet smile and her springtime eyes. I   
  
never loved her enough. She was special...)  
  
Special, he remembered, in more ways than one. He remembered the next   
  
time he'd seen her, when he first realized just how "special" she   
  
was...  
  
~~~~~  
  
)|(His shift started at nine, but he figured he'd have time for a   
  
coffee. He told himself it was because he needed caffeine, not because a   
  
certain somebody might spill coffee on his uniform.  
  
She was very careful as she brought him an iced coffee, smiling   
  
secretly at him. A black headband winked beneath the overhead lights; her   
  
red hair swung merrily in a ponytail behind her.  
  
"Thanks," he said, grinning. "It's just what I ordered."  
  
"Can I sit down?" she asked.  
  
"Sure. On break again?" He motioned to the chair across from him.  
  
She laughed. "Yes, and this time for good. They're 'letting me go',"   
  
she said, using her fingers for quotation marks. He laughed.  
  
"You were my last order ever. Feel special," she said.  
  
"I do," he assured her, smiling.  
  
"So, Officer...Kennedy," she said. She leaned forward to read his   
  
nameplate, ponytail shimmering in the overhead light. "You didn't tell me   
  
you were a police officer."  
  
"You didn't ask." He sipped his coffee. "Why, does that bother you?"  
  
"No!" she said quickly. "No. I was just trying to make   
  
conversation." She blushed a little, something he found charming.  
  
"You just get off-duty?" she asked.  
  
He looked at his watch. "No, I'm about to get on. My shift starts at   
  
nine."  
  
"Oh, I'd better let you go, then." She smiled and got up. "You have a   
  
nice night, now."  
  
"Wait," he said. "If you're not working here anymore, how will I ever   
  
see you again?"  
  
She smiled, cocking her head. "Officer Kennedy, are you asking me out   
  
on a date?"  
  
"No," he said, smiling secretly. "Not a date. Maybe, you know,   
  
coffee."  
  
"Coffee?" she laughed. "I think we've both had enough coffee to last   
  
us the rest of our lives!"  
  
He laughed along with her. "So no coffee. How about dinner, then?"  
  
She smiled softly back, picking up a napkin from the table and leaning   
  
over to write her phone number on it. "I'd like that. Here's my   
  
number--"  
  
As she was leaning over to write it, a passing patron gave her a   
  
not-so-friendly pat on the behind.  
  
"Hey!" she whirled. "Jerk."  
  
"Just saying goodbye to you, Dorothy," the man said, leering.  
  
"Back off," Leon said, rising from his chair.  
  
He put up his hands in an I-mean-no-harm gesture, but made kissing   
  
noises at Dorothy.  
  
She raised a hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist and yanked her   
  
toward him. She broke his grip and jumped back.  
  
Feeling a surge of testosterone, Leon tackled the man, sending them   
  
both to the floor. He was on top, poised to knock the guy out, then   
  
suddenly he was airborne, falling from less than ten feet to smack against   
  
the wall, seeing stars.  
  
"Leon!" Dorothy's voice came from underwater and far away. Leon   
  
blinked to see her leap for the man. She did not fight like a girl; she   
  
swung with closed fist, but the man was simply too fast.   
  
Suddenly he seized her and lifted, lifted. Leon could see the hand   
  
that held her, something twisted and bestial, a claw. She was swinging   
  
at him with one hand, going for the eyes, but he used his free hand to   
  
smash her arm away. A choked cry came from her, but there was more rage   
  
than fear in her eyes.  
  
The shot was far too loud in the tiny coffee shop, and it was only   
  
after he fired that Leon registered the screams of the other patrons, the   
  
approaching sirens.   
  
The man stumbled, flinging Dorothy down to crumple in a heap on the   
  
floor. She wasn't moving. Blood pooled beneath her; her arm was torn   
  
wide open. Her bright tail of hair gleamed against the floor, the color   
  
of the blood spreading outward from her still form.  
  
He didn't go down. Leon blinked.   
  
Dorothy was unconscious, she had been since he'd clawed her...  
  
(Virus!...)  
  
No, she was still alive. There was still a chance...  
  
It all went through his head in the space of a second. Leon found he   
  
could stand, and moved in front of the fallen redhead, shielding her.   
  
He emptied a clip into the--well, the "man" seemed an inappropriate   
  
term--but it did little good.  
  
The man turned black eyes to Leon. Something slid behind those eyes,   
  
not human.  
  
"Stay away from her," Leon heard himself say.  
  
He'd only met the unconscious girl at his feet once before, and now he   
  
was prepared to die for her. It occurred to him that it should have   
  
felt odd, but it didn't. He was prepared.  
  
Suddenly the tiny coffee shop was a cacophony of sound--men in   
  
uniforms were running back and forth, guns drawn, shouting things. Someone   
  
was restraining the man, who was shouting epithets.  
  
Leon had eyes only for the redhead. She was very, very still as he   
  
knelt at her side. How small she looked, lying in a pool of her own   
  
congealing blood.   
  
(Oh, please be okay, baby--)  
  
"Don't move her, Kennedy!" someone was yelling. "Don't move her yet!   
  
Don't move her!"  
  
Leon gently touched her cheek, just beneath her closed eye. Blood   
  
from the puncture marks on her neck--he remembered those claws, lifting,   
  
lifting--had spilled onto her white shirt in a line of spots and bigger   
  
spots. He could read the writing on the shirt through the stain:   
  
"Material Girl".  
  
(You tried to protect me...)  
  
He'd had the gun. Why hadn't he shot sooner? For all the good it did.   
  
(Looks like we might not get that dinner date after all...) he   
  
thought, then shook his head violently. (No, don't think that...)  
  
What was that man? Why...?  
  
She was breathing shallowly, chest rising and falling. She was alive,   
  
but for how long?  
  
"Dorothy..."  
  
Then there were reaching hands, taking her away, pushing him aside.   
  
"No...wait...tell them he's a shapeshifter...tell them she needs the   
  
vaccine..."  
  
"One, two, three," an EMT counted out, and they lifted her into the   
  
waiting ambulance. She'd never looked more fragile.)|(  
  
~~~~~  
  
"...And I hope I've interested someone today. Thank you!" Stephanie   
  
bowed slightly and went back to her seat.   
  
Dorothy had already given her speech the week before; now she just had   
  
to be an "active listener" for the rest of the speeches. Of course, it   
  
was hard to be an active listener when a certain man was policing her   
  
thoughts, no pun intended. Damn, he was persistent.   
  
She smiled unconsciously. Of course, if he hadn't been persistent,   
  
she might never have seen him again...  
  
~~~~~  
  
)|(The doctor seemed very curious about her headband.  
  
The whir of the disk drive was very comforting to her as it opened.   
  
She nimbly avoided any and all attempts Doctor Parrish made to further   
  
examine the drive.  
  
She wished briefly to be a child again, to have protection of the law,   
  
to be taken care of. But she was now legally an adult and as such was   
  
going to have to do all of this herself.  
  
"I can see why you can take so much damage, but you must understand   
  
how lucky you were," Parrish admonished.  
  
"That's what they said when I woke up last time too," she said wryly,   
  
pointing to her headband, "and now I've got THIS. Tell me again about   
  
'lucky', Doctor."  
  
He frowned. "You're not out of the woods yet. Your android body   
  
might have been able to stand up to the claw marks, but your blood is still   
  
human and therefore susceptible to the contagion. The officer you were   
  
with informed the EMTs of the nature of the suspect, but they were not   
  
aware before arriving on the scene and therefore had no supplies on   
  
hand to treat the infection. By the time we got you stabilized, it seemed   
  
an empty gesture..."  
  
"Why do you say that?" she asked sharply.  
  
"This long after infection, we're not even sure it would work," he   
  
said in a voice that managed to be gentle and matter-of-fact at the same   
  
time. He had placed one hand over hers, but instead of feeling   
  
comforting, it felt like a hot leaden weight. It was his touch, not his words,   
  
that she was paying attention to.  
  
"Well, can I have it anyway? Are you saying I shouldn't have the   
  
inoculation?" The haze in her head was making hard to concentrate.   
  
"If you wish to have the inoculation, we will administer it. However,   
  
I must warn you, if you are not already infected, the inoculation will   
  
give you the disease."  
  
She mulled it over, not an easy thing when Macy's annual Tap-O-Mania   
  
was practicing in her head. "Then no, I don't want it. If I've got it,   
  
I've got it." There, that sounded very calm and mature. She felt   
  
immediately better, and proud of herself.  
  
"As you wish," Parrish said.   
  
"You'd better rest. Someone will be in to check your vitals in a   
  
minute."  
  
"Thank you, Doctor." She looked down at her hands. "Umm...Doctor?"  
  
He turned at the door.  
  
"You don't happen to know what happened to the police officer with   
  
me...?"  
  
Parrish graced her with a smile. "He's here. He wanted to see you   
  
earlier, but I told him you needed to rest. He's chomping at the bit and   
  
pacing up and down like an expectant father."  
  
Her throat already felt like she'd swallowed gravel, and now her voice   
  
was squeaky with shyness. "Can I see him? Can you...can someone tell   
  
him I asked for him?"  
  
"Will do. Get some rest." He didn't look back.  
  
Leon had an iced coffee in one hand. The other was fixed in a sling.  
  
Dorothy tried to smile, but it was hard with the pain it caused the   
  
bruised side of her face. "Hi. What's that you've got there?"  
  
He smiled a little. "The doctor says I can't take you out for iced   
  
coffee yet, so I brought the iced coffee to you."  
  
"Coffee?" She blinked.  
  
"Yeah. Want some?" He sat on the edge of her bed.  
  
She blinked again. "Your arm..." She reached out to him, tracing   
  
along the sling gently. "I'm sorry. I tried to stop him..."  
  
He cupped her bruised cheek gently. "I'm the police officer. It's my   
  
job to protect you, and I failed."  
  
"I'm still here," she said softly.   
  
"Yes," he said. "Yes, you are." He smiled and reached to touch her   
  
headband. "Bet you're the only kid on the block who has one of these."  
  
She blushed miserably. "I should have told you. I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm supposed to be protecting   
  
you," he repeated.  
  
"No. I knew what he was. He'd come into the shop before. I put you   
  
in danger. I didn't mean to..." She looked away.  
  
He cupped her cheek in his hand. "We're both okay. That's all that   
  
matters."  
  
She blinked tear-bright eyes at him. "Thanks for coming to see me."  
  
He grinned. "Wild werewolves couldn't keep me away."  
  
She smiled back. "Silly."  
  
"So," he said. "After all this hospital food, I'll have to take you   
  
out someplace really nice for dinner."  
  
She blinked in surprise. "You still want to go out with me?"  
  
He seemed surprised himself. "Yes. Why not?"  
  
She opened her mouth to give him a hundred reasons, but stuck to the   
  
simplest one. "Because I almost got you killed?"  
  
"Said the girl in the hospital bed, to the guy who's pretty much   
  
fine," Leon laughed.   
  
She giggled. "You're crazy."  
  
"Well, maybe a little." He grinned at her, offering her his cast.   
  
"I've got a pen. Want to try again?"  
  
"Okay, but YOU keep your hands off my ass till I say it's okay." She   
  
smirked.  
  
"Yes ma'am." He smirked as she signed his cast, writing down her name   
  
and number with a flourish.  
  
The months to follow would be the happiest of his life.)|(  
  
~~~~~  
  
The good days. The so-good days, when she had sundresses in every   
  
color and Leon would buy her a vanilla milkshake just to make her smile.   
  
The evenings when she would worry about him, and she would always   
  
worry, even though he was the ultimate cop. When he shrugged out of his   
  
shoulder holster, she'd watch the careless grace of his movements, then   
  
carefully remove the Beretta and examine it, as if she could will it to   
  
protect him. It seemed strange to pray that Leon's aim would always be   
  
true when she prayed so hard that the shots aimed at him would never   
  
strike home.  
  
She remembered how strong his arms always were around her; he would   
  
hold her hard, as if he were trying to prove he could keep her safe. How   
  
she always felt safe waking up in those strong arms. She remembered   
  
how young he looked when he slept, how peaceful his face always was.   
  
She frowned at the memories. Why were they flooding her now?   
  
Obviously, no matter how sweet Leon's kisses, no matter how strong his arms,   
  
how lazy and free the days were, it hadn't been enough. Even if it had   
  
been enough, something had interfered. Something had gone wrong, or she   
  
wouldn't be with Roger now. She and Leon would still be together.  
  
(Roger...oh, my God.) She stopped short in the hallway, frozen with   
  
guilt and fear. (I owe Roger such an apology. He must be so fed up with   
  
me. Why do I feel this way? Why is it when Leon's near I get so   
  
confused? I want to just fall into his arms and let him kiss everything   
  
away...but when he's gone I come to my senses. Why? What's wrong with me?)  
  
"Excuse me!" a girl said, bumping into her from behind. Stopping   
  
short in the hallway probably wasn't such a good idea.   
  
"Sorry...sorry," Dorothy said, moving out of the way.  
  
"It's okay," the girl said, smiling and swinging long blonde hair as   
  
she continued down the hall. The heels on her slides went click, click,   
  
click...  
  
~~~~~  
  
)|("We have got to stop meeting like this," Dorothy said, trying to   
  
joke. Great. First weekend back and this was what she got?   
  
Leon chuckled. He looked great, too--insult to injury.  
  
"Which one are you headed to?" Leon asked, indicating the movie   
  
marquees on the side of the building.  
  
"Oh--I'm making a stand," she laughed. "What about you? You here   
  
alone?"  
  
His face fell. "Um...well..."  
  
Click, click, click...the sound made Dorothy look up from the ticket   
  
window. A dark-haired woman in a pink minidress was stalking towards   
  
them on her high heels.   
  
"Who's your friend, Leon?"   
  
Dorothy wondered what it was like to have a voice like cream soda. It   
  
brushed against her like fur. She could only imagine the effect it had   
  
on Leon, who was actually looking decidedly uncomfortable.  
  
The dark-haired woman smiled, looking Dorothy up and down confidently.   
  
She seemed to loom over Dorothy in her pink high heels. Dorothy felt   
  
even shorter and her hair seemed to be not bright as blood but a dull   
  
unattractive orange. She was suddenly regretting wearing knee boots and a   
  
leather miniskirt. Her leather jacket read "Angels Motorcycles" with a   
  
rhinestone halo over the "A". She felt about twelve years old.  
  
"You didn't introduce me," the dark-haired woman purred to Leon,   
  
fixing a wry smile on him.  
  
He managed to look even more uncomfortable. "Of course. Ada, this is   
  
Dorothy Wayneright. Dorothy, this is Ada Wong."  
  
"It's nice to meet you," Dorothy said cheerfully, her voice sounding   
  
thin even to her own ears as she extended her hand to the taller woman.   
  
Each had a firm grip; each tried to squeeze harder than the other.  
  
"Are you all by yourself, sweetheart?" Ada's tone was sugary sweet.   
  
The endearment hurt the worst.  
  
"No, I--I'm making a stand," she repeated, trying to muster up the old   
  
cheerfulness. "In fact, my show's about to start. What are you two   
  
going to see?"  
  
Ada smiled. "We're seeing 'The Sweetest Thing'."  
  
Dorothy turned to Leon. She couldn't resist. "You hate romantic   
  
comedies."  
  
He looked slightly alarmed as he lied, "...No, I don't."  
  
Ada shot her a brief, squinty smile. Its meaning was clear  
  
"Well, I'd better go. It was nice to meet you," Dorothy said to Ada,   
  
hastily smiling and shaking the taller woman's hand again. "It was   
  
great to see you again, Leon. Give me a call, we can get together." There,   
  
that was good. That was mature. She felt slightly better, even   
  
listening to the click-click of Ada's heels as they went their separate ways.  
  
"Enjoy the show," Dorothy called, unsure if she was saying it to Leon   
  
and Ada, or to the group of people who'd been watching their exchange.   
  
It wasn't until she was securely settled in the theater, watching   
  
zombies tear apart a group of special ops, that she remembered curling up   
  
on a bed watching "Run Lola Run". Leon had fallen asleep before the   
  
end, cuddled up against her. She hadn't had the heart to wake him, simply   
  
stroked his hair back while reading the final subtitles, feeling his   
  
soft breath on her neck.  
  
A tear snaked down past her nose. She hastily brushed it aside.   
  
Onscreen, a special operative sagged in the arms of her comrades. She   
  
gave the audience a tired smile. " 'You know what? When I get out of   
  
here, I think I'm gonna get laid.' "  
  
The operative holding her left arm wrinkled his nose. " 'You might   
  
want to clean up first.' "  
  
Dorothy found herself rooting for the Red Queen. Not everything Alice   
  
had found through the looking glass had been pleasant.)|(  
  
~~~~~  
  
It was memories like those that shocked her back to her senses,   
  
although it was arguable that she might not have been so depressed had she   
  
not been listening to the Duncan Sheik song that shared her viewpoint. It   
  
wasn't exactly a hyper ballad.  
  
She wanted to tell Roger the truth. But she couldn't. If he knew   
  
she'd seen Leon, how close they'd been, he'd freak. If she confessed the   
  
doubts she had, he'd be so angry. He'd throw her out; she'd lose him.   
  
She'd lose him and Snowy, and the big house and the wonderful feeling   
  
of belonging, the sweet aching fullness of her heart when he kissed   
  
her...  
  
She just couldn't tell him. If what she felt for Roger wasn't the   
  
same as what she felt for Leon--not that she was sure what THAT was   
  
anymore--she never wanted Roger to know. She loved Roger, would never hurt   
  
him.  
  
(Maybe he doesn't love me after all,) she thought. (Would my betrayal   
  
really hurt him that much? Maybe I'm flattering myself. How will I   
  
know?)  
  
She headed home. These days it seemed to take so long to get there.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Roger sighed, turning over an hourglass. He'd found what was   
  
bothering him, finally. It gave him a sense of order and right to see the   
  
pieces fit.   
  
The ticket--SOMETHING had been bothering him about the ticket, and he   
  
had finally realized what--the handwriting on the ticket matched the   
  
handwriting on the card that had come with those damned roses.  
  
Come to think of it, Dorothy had been acting strange since going to pay   
  
for the ticket...  
  
Roger tented his fingers. He would not think the worst of his Dorothy.   
  
It could be nothing. There had to be a logical explanation for this.   
  
The negotiator reached for the phone.  
  
Roger shook his head as he realized he was seeing more of Dastun than   
  
ever he did while on the force. How ironic. 


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: Thank you, Nightengale 13, for your sharp eyes! (and for your continued readership! It's MUCH appreciated *^_^*) Hopefully the Curse of Names has been lifted.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Chapter 14  
  
**********  
  
Kirei let herself into her studio via the back door. She quickly walked through the compact living quarters, closing the shoji screen behind herself as she entered her workshop. Only Roger and Dorothy knew about the tiny hidden apartment (they both had keys as well) and she intended to keep it that way.  
  
Whatever happened, Dastun would not take Roger's place, no matter how hard the negotiator pushed or how well-meaning his actions. She would choose her own path. She never could be controlled by outside forces (other than by the harshest measures--memories of her first pack started to well up--No, she thought, not now! I don't want to cry. Dastun will notice and start asking questions.) She growled unconsciously.   
  
Meanwhile, she HAD agreed to meet the major here around noon. She had to busy herself with something. There were a couple of commissioned pieces that needed to be finished. That would fill the next few hours nicely. Much better to keep herself occupied than drive herself crazy trying to read her packmates' minds.  
  
The little shapeshifter pulled off her bulky sweater and went to work, losing herself in the final details of stone setting. It required all her attention to get the gems seated just so, to secure and polish the tiny prongs and bezels without destroying everything in the process. It was almost a form of active meditation, allowing her to lose track of time and trouble. Thus, she was roundly startled by the sharp sound of someone knocking on the front door of the shop.  
  
It was Dastun, punctual as ever. He was in uniform, every button brightly polished. Kirei let him in, greeting him with a polite smile. To her surprise, he bent down and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek as he entered.  
  
Once inside the privacy of her studio, he apologized for taking such a liberty. "I don't know if the bad guys are watching me, just like we're watching them," he explained sheepishly. "We have to make it look real."  
  
"Um, that's okay, I guess," replied Kirei uncertainly. Just how far was this charade supposed to go? "Look," she continued, changing the subject, "let me clean up and we'll leave, okay?" She held up her hands. The palms and fingertips were stained red with polishing compound.  
  
"Sure," Dastun nodded, watching her return to the workshop in back. He decided she looked just as good this way (no makeup, regular clothes) as she did dressed up. The black jeans and fitted tee showed off her trim figure very nicely.  
  
The major glanced around the tiny shop before following her to the back. For some reason he had expected it to be dark and brooding like Smith's place. He couldn't have been more wrong. It was light and bright, with teak floors and asian-inspired display cases for the jewelry. Intensely colored paintings hung on the walls. It was kind of a shock, actually. How could she stand living in that gloomy house? He shook his head, confused. How did Roger attract and keep someone like this? What WAS the negotiator's secret?  
  
"Is this all your work?" he asked, wandering past the wall divider into her work space.  
  
"Yup," the small woman answered, drying her hands with a paper towel. Kirei gestured around the room with a nod of her head. "This is where I do it."  
  
Although chaotic at first glance, it was actually extremely organized. A couple of large easels (both with unfinished portraits) were off to one side. One wall was hung floor to ceiling with innumerable strands of beads and pearls--precious, semi-precious, stone, glass, metal, in every shape, size, and color imaginable. Carefully labeled cabinets were stacked in a corner beside a compact work table full of equipment. Another larger table held stacks of finished drawings and canvases. A closed shoji screen served as a back wall.  
  
"I'm impressed," the major stammered, at a loss for words.  
  
"Don't be," replied Kirei. "I'm not. It's not like it's brain surgery." She shrugged gracefully, then slipped her heavy pullover back on. "Where are we going?"  
  
"Where? Oh, yes." Dastun gathered his thoughts. "I thought we'd grab a quick bite, and then I want to take you to the shooting range. I think it would be a good idea to familiarize you with guns just to be safe. This case might be dangerous down the line. I need to be sure you can handle yourself in a tight spot."  
  
Kirei smiled slightly at him, her dark eyes twinkling with amusement. He liked that a lot. Down boy, he thought. She's somebody else's...at least for now.   
  
"If you insist," she said, "but I do know my way around weapons. It's really not necessary."  
  
"We'll see," replied Dastun. He had seen too many over-confident rookies nearly get themselves killed in the past. He was not about to let a civilian do the same thing, especially not this one.  
  
The major took her to the police shooting range after lunch. A sample of every sort of firearm used by the dept was set up on a table for them, all fully loaded and ready to go. A row of paper targets was also prepared.  
  
Kirei listened quietly as Dastun explained the rules of the range, then how to use each type of weapon. They both then put on ear and eye protection. The major next demonstrated the proper ways to stand, hold the gun, aim. He fired several rounds, expertly hitting the general vicinity of the bullseye in a nice tight grouping. He put the gun down.  
  
"Now you try it," he said, pointing to the weapon.  
  
"Major Dastun, this really is not necessary," Kirei protested again, albeit politely.  
  
"Yes, it is," replied Dastun firmly. "And please call me Dan. You have to make it a habit, just in case."  
  
The little shapeshifter sighed. If Roger hadn't expected her to cooperate, she would have simply refused. Well, if this was what her alpha wanted, so be it. She picked up the gun and in one swift graceful movement aimed and fired.   
  
She hit the target dead center.  
  
Dastun's eyes widened. "Lucky shot," he commented.  
  
Kirei proceeded to pick up each weapon in turn and go down the line of targets. She hit each bullseye with equal proficiency, regardless of what she was shooting.  
  
The major stood there, jaw gaping. "Um, that is pretty good," he finally stammered.  
  
"Thank you," replied Kirei, carefully putting down the last firearm (it was an Uzi.) Her face was unreadable.  
  
Dastun stared at her. Who was this woman? Who taught her how to shoot like that? Certainly not Roger...he hated guns. He wondered uneasily if Roger knew about her...talent.  
  
Just for the hell of it, the major led Kirei into the next room. This was where the "Hogan's Alley" simulation was run. He and his men honed their street skills here. Dan handed the slender brunette a loaded Colt.45 and an extra clip. He explained the rules of the game, and asked it she would be willing to try it. "It's fun," he said. "You might enjoy the challenge."  
  
"Sure," she shrugged. "Why not?" She pulled off the sweater (not wanting to ruin it) and entered the room. At her signal, Dastun set the street scene in motion.  
  
Dan watched her go through it in record time, and with record results. Kirei had a perfect score.  
  
"How did you DO that?" he asked, astonished.  
  
"Practice," she replied laconically. "I did have a life before Roger."  
  
Dastun shook his head in wonderment. He had to know more about her. He had an idea. It was sneaky, but he couldn't think of anything else. She had politely avoided answering most of his more personal questions.  
  
There was a tray of small glasses next to a pitcher of cold water in the back of the room. He poured a couple of glasses full, and brought the tray over, offering the water to Kirei. She thanked him and picked one up, drank, and returned the empty glass to the tray. As she turned away to put her sweater back on, Dastun carefully slipped the glass into an evidence bag and put it in his pocket.  
  
As they were leaving the shooting range, Dastun briefly excused himself, saying he needed to check on a report. He ducked into the forensics lab and dropped off the glass at fingerprinting. They would have the results in a few hours. Every citizen in Paradigm was fingerprinted as a matter of course.  
  
"Thanks for indulging me," the major said as they left M.P.H.Q. "I had to be sure you could, um, handle yourself. Roger would never forgive me if you got hurt helping me."  
  
Kirei shrugged again, then stuck her hands in her jeans pockets. "That's alright, Maj...Dan. Roger knows I'm very good at taking care of myself."  
  
You certainly are, thought Dastun. She was turning into an irresistible mystery. He offered to drive Kirei home, but she demurred, saying she still had work to finish at her studio. The major insisted on escorting her back--somehow they got into a long and involved conversation about the absurdity of life in Paradigm. By the time they arrived at her shop, Dastun had reduced her to giggles with a true story about one of his especially inept superiors.  
  
There was something so sweet and innocent about her obvious pleasure, something so very alluring. The major couldn't help himself--he bent down, placed his hands on her shoulders, pulled her close, and kissed her gently on the mouth.  
  
She quickly pushed away, astonished. "Dan, WHAT are you doing?"   
  
He just smiled and tipped his hat. "I may need you later this week, if that's okay," he said softly. Kirei slowly nodded, too shocked to speak. She entered her studio and locked the door behind her.  
  
Dastun returned to M.P.H.Q. Kissing her had been stupid, but he didn't care. He could always explain it away as part of the cover story. Whistling to himself, he decided to see what the lab boys in fingerprinting had come up with. He'd soon learn the truth of that strange quiet little woman, know some of the secrets of her pre-Roger life.  
  
To Dastun's surprise the techs hadn't come up with much at all. According to their findings, whoever handled the glass had been wearing gloves, probably made of a very fine and expensive leather. There were absolutely no fingerprints, nothing identifiable at all.  
  
There was something very wrong here. Maybe Kirei wasn't what she seemed to be. Maybe she was big trouble. Maybe Smith was being set up. The negotiator certainly had plenty of enemies. He had learned long ago to be wary of letting just anyone get close. He rarely misjudged people when such a mistake could cost him his life. Smith wouldn't have opened his home to her if she wasn't trustworthy, and yet...Those weapons skills she had were worthy of a good soldier, or...an assassin. The way she attracted male attention like that--she might have seduced Roger, reeling him in til she did whatever damage she was supposed to do.  
  
The major could feel the vein in his forehead begin to throb. This was so confusing. There was something so pleasant, so disarming about the little brunette...he liked her so much! On the other hand, Smith was a long-time friend, despite their differences. Perhaps he should say something to him.  
  
Meanwhile he could do a little digging. There was nothing in the report to indicate Kirei's identity. He would write it up as a rumor concerning possible shooters for hire, highly skilled individuals with no traceable prints, and see if one of his officers could come up with something. Now who to choose? Dastun glanced down at the new transfers' personnel files sitting on his desk. Kennedy had a background in unusual cases, didn't he? He'd give it to him. Grimacing, the major put the report in the young officer's in-box.  
  
Kirei, meanwhile, was extremely annoyed at both the major and the negotiator. She would see this damn case through because she had given her word, but that would be the end of it. As for Roger--he meant well, but she would choose her own companions, thank you very much.  
  
The shapeshifter went into the tiny apartment behind the shoji screen. She pulled out a double picture frame from her dresser and set it on top. It held two photos of Shinji; one in his wolf phase, the other human. He'd written on the second photo the words: "Snowy, I'll always love you," and signed it with both his name and an inked paw print.   
  
Kirei sighed deeply. Those had been difficult times, but she had never doubted Shinji's feelings for her. She decided not to return to Roger's house tonight. She had too much thinking to do.  
  
She pulled her cell phone out and called. Norman answered, crisp and formal as always. "Shall I tell Master Roger you're calling, Miss Snowy? He is on the other line with a client."  
  
"No, don't bother him," replied Kirei. "If he asks for me, tell him I'm staying over at Whitewolf. I've, um, got too much work to do. Thanks, Norman."  
  
Kirei hung up and finally let her hot tears flow. All she wanted was to be in the big bed now, with Roger sweetly caught between Dorothy and herself. She remembered the last time (it felt forever ago), how his strong arms had cuddled them both against him, how she and Dorothy had clasped their hands over his heart.  
  
She wanted, no, she NEEDED to feel safe and wanted and loved like that. She'd had that sense of perfect belonging with her first pack. The loss had nearly killed her soul. The dreadful blow was felt again when, now alone, she tried to mingle with the citizens of Paradigm. Kirei soon learned that, shapeshifter or not, the others all shared a common thread, an assurance of something she lacked. They knew they were all human, at least in the beginning. Every shapeshifter was the result of a disease, something from outside that entered them and changed them forever.  
  
Kirei Snowolf was...something else. Neither her tooth nor claw would infect another, for she had never been infected herself. She was as she had been bred to be. It could be taken from her, but she could never share it. The other shapeshifters felt uncomfortable around her. They sensed that she was neither beast nor human, but both. She had been born a wolf with the gift of shifting; she had been conditioned since birth to think of herself as an animal first.   
  
As for human company--they tended to make her very nervous. Her training had not prepared her to deal with regular people in a casually social context. Fortunately her talent allowed her to carve a niche for herself. Artists were expected to be eccentric.   
  
If it hadn't been for Dorothy, and later Roger, she couldn't imagine where she'd be right now. They both accepted her for what she was. They asked few prying questions about her past. Roger's attitude had been that "Every saint had a past, every sinner had a future." She would share when she was ready, and that had been good enough.  
  
Kirei believed she had truly found a home again...but now it seemed she was wrong. Dorothy was avoiding her, and Roger--she growled in pained frustration.   
  
Maybe Shinji HAD been right in the dream. If she wanted to stay put, maybe she needed to simplify life for everyone.   
  
Roger never did get that puppy for Dorothy's birthday. She hadn't been able to make up her mind. No one had the time to train one anyway.  
  
Maybe a pure-blooded adult wolf would do instead. At least she was already housebroken. 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
  
**********  
  
Roger felt guilty for cutting Dan Dastun's chitchat short, but they   
  
could catch up later. Right now there were more important things to take   
  
care of.  
  
"I'm calling in response to an outstanding traffic ticket," the   
  
negotiator remarked dryly.  
  
Major Dan Dastun was a man whose laughter was obvious in his voice.   
  
"You let Dorothy take the car again?"  
  
"Ha, ha. That ticket, did she pay it?" Roger wanted this riddle   
  
solved.  
  
"Sure. She came in with--she took care of it with Kennedy," the   
  
major said. He was hesitant to remind Roger of Snowolf's presence there, lest   
  
the negotiator find out about his conversation with the petite brunette.   
  
Roger never carried a gun, but if he suspected someone was trying to steal   
  
one of his girls away, he might make an exception.  
  
"Kennedy?" Roger asked, trying to sound innocent.  
  
"Leon Kennedy," Dastun clarified, eager to steer the conversation   
  
away from anything that might put Roger wise to his feelings toward Kirei.   
  
"He just got transferred here."  
  
(Hah!) Roger thought triumphantly. The name matched the initials   
  
on the card that had come with the roses--L. K.  
  
"Is he fit to be handling such matters?" Roger asked haughtily.   
  
"How much do you know about this Kennedy guy?"  
  
Dastun assumed, as Roger had hoped he would, that it was merely   
  
concern for Dorothy that prompted the question. He answered right away. "Leon?   
  
If he stays with the force, he just might threaten my position as ultimate   
  
cop," the major joked. "Graduated in the top tenth from the academy, writes   
  
very well-written and accurate reports, dominates the target range. Not   
  
only that, he's a good kid."  
  
"Reminds you of you?" Roger asked dryly. He was not liking what he   
  
was hearing.  
  
"Reminds me of YOU," the major clarified.  
  
"Oh really?" Roger asked through gritted teeth. "How so?"  
  
"It's somewhere between his burning need to serve and protect, or   
  
the fact that all he does in his spare time is beat women off with a club,"   
  
Dastun chuckled. Roger snarled. This was worse than he'd thought.  
  
"Don't you worry about it, Roger," Dastun continued. "Leon took   
  
good care of Dorothy."  
  
"Yeah, that's why I'm nervous," Roger muttered.   
  
"What was that?" Dastun asked.  
  
"Nothing," Roger quickly said. "Thanks, Dan. Listen, I have some   
  
business to take care of, but let's get together for a drink sometime   
  
soon."  
  
"Sure," the major agreed, puzzled by the negotiator's mood. "You   
  
okay?"  
  
"Never better," Roger said. "I just have some things that need   
  
attending   
  
to."  
  
Dastun laughed. "That's another thing you and Kennedy have in   
  
common. You're always on the job, both of you."  
  
Furious, Roger hung up.   
  
Unperturbed, Dastun also hung up. "Yup," he repeated. "Hard   
  
workers, both of them."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Leon had spent over a dollar already.  
  
A penny *pinged* off the ashtray across the room, then skittered   
  
across the desk the ashtray sat on and rolled onto the floor.  
  
Leon sighed and readied another penny. It had to be close to two   
  
dollars by now that he'd thrown at the ashtray. A case file lay untouched on   
  
his desk.  
  
He couldn't help it. He couldn't concentrate. All he could think   
  
of was her.  
  
The memories were coming more frequently now, making him so anxious   
  
to be near her again. He remembered everything about her in startling   
  
detail, could call up every expression she'd ever graced him with. Dorothy   
  
sitting on the kitchen counter in her old high school uniform, kicking her feet as   
  
she watched him make breakfast; Dorothy in the precinct petting the dogs who   
  
worked narcotics; Dorothy covered in blood after pack fights, exhausted   
  
and bewildered. Dorothy at the stove in an apron, trying desperately,   
  
adorably to be domestic; Dorothy asleep in the bed they'd shared, the covers tucked   
  
around her, Dorothy snuggling next to him on the sofa as they watched movies.   
  
Dorothy laughing, Dorothy puzzled, Dorothy's eyes shiny with tears.  
  
His mind tried to tell him she belonged to someone else now, but   
  
his heart found it impossible to believe. They'd shared so much. It   
  
couldn't possibly be the same with this Roger guy...could it?  
  
Trying to shake away the scent of the little redhead's hair, the   
  
feel of her body in an embrace, Leon turned to the file on his desk.   
  
(Concentrate, boyo,) he told himself. (Work before pleasure.)  
  
Leon smiled unconsciously as he read the report. The young officer   
  
would never deny that he was proud of himself for surviving the Raccoon City   
  
incident. Unfortunately, one result was that now every weird freaky   
  
X-Files-ish case somehow made its way to his desk.  
  
(At least I'm not the only one in this building who's got the   
  
coroner's office bookmarked as a Favorite Place,) Leon thought to himself, unable   
  
to help grinning.  
  
Assassins for hire. What a chilling concept. Guns broke all the   
  
rules. They could take down almost anything if used properly, men, women,   
  
children, girls with heightened speed and pointed claws...  
  
(Focus, Kennedy.)  
  
Leon shook his head and grinned again. This case would be...a   
  
challenge. And he was ready for any challenge that came his way.  
  
~~~~~   
  
Roger hung up the phone and seethed. Dorothy had been acting   
  
strange ever since those roses had come, and then even stranger after going to the   
  
precinct to pay for the parking ticket. That officer had done something,   
  
said something to her.  
  
Roger was hurt that she hadn't come to him, that she hadn't said   
  
anything to him. Why hadn't she? Didn't she trust him?  
  
(Maybe she tried,) a nagging little voice in his head that sounded   
  
suspiciously like Dorothy said, (and you just didn't listen. How much   
  
do you really listen?)  
  
He silenced the voice. Dorothy might have been afraid to tell him.   
  
He would have to talk to her, show her she could trust him. The little   
  
android had been hurt in the past, and Roger was still paying the bill for it.   
  
(It's a good thing I'm rich,) Roger joked to himself, and it made   
  
him smile.   
  
~~~~~  
  
Leon needed a minute to collect himself.  
  
He had on his desk files regarding a terminated experiment on   
  
shapeshifters--however, instead of humans changing to animal form, it   
  
was the other way around. Bred and trained to serve, to protect, they had been   
  
a top-secret brainchild of the government.  
  
Which might explain having no fingerprints, or any other   
  
identifying marks.  
  
A terrible suspicion had whispered its way through Leon's mind once   
  
the connection had been made to shapeshifters.  
  
"It's me," Dorothy had told him brightly, "and Roger, and Kirei."  
  
Leon knew who Roger Smith was. Everyone did. The negotiator was a   
  
self-made millionaire, and had been known to foil some of Paradigm's   
  
recent criminal schemes. He'd be an obvious target for an assassin. And they   
  
wouldn't just hire some cheap local talent. It had been tried on Smith   
  
and it had failed. They'd need someone good, not only to take care of   
  
Smith but of any witnesses or obstacles--like a red-haired android she-wolf who   
  
could bench-press a car.  
  
Leon paled at the thought. It made sense. If someone was after   
  
Smith, they'd be sure to have done their homework. They'd know Dorothy lived   
  
in the house with Roger. It wouldn't take much digging to discover that she   
  
was a bio-android, and from there it would be a short leap to finding out she   
  
was a lycanthrope. The attack in the coffee shop--it seemed so long   
  
ago!--was on record. Marvin Branagh had written the report. Leon remembered it   
  
like it was yesterday.  
  
If someone was planning to hit Roger Smith, they'd have to plan on   
  
taking out Dorothy too. She was both an obstacle and an invitation to up the   
  
stakes. So the assassin would have to be packing some serious hardware, like   
  
an Uzi, a tank--or a wolf beneath their skin. Who was this Kirei? What did   
  
she really want?  
  
Leon Kennedy set his strong jaw. He had failed Dorothy once. He   
  
would not fail again. There was a reason he'd been transferred here. He was   
  
getting a second chance, and this time he would not lose her.  
  
Leon smiled, reaching to touch the small plastic command wolf on   
  
his desk. (I will not fail!) 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16   
  
**********  
  
Author's note: A quick reminder that as of Chapter 17 (the next one) this story will be rated "R." That means changing the rating on fanfiction's menu to find it.   
  
Also an apology of sorts. Due to circumstances beyond my control, the next chapters AFTER 17 will be coming more slowly than the others. For example, 19 is finished, but 18 isn't. Sorry!  
  
Thanks again for your kind attention! We both hope you will continue to be pleased with our little efforts *^_^* ...and we WILL continue our tale. If you have questions in the future, you can reach me at bluehorse541@hotmail.com  
  
******************************  
  
Kirei shivered when she realized the gravity of what she was considering--What am I thinking? Would it really be easier for all of us if I gave up my humanity? It was a huge decision, one there would be no coming back from. Besides, getting the vaccine would be no easy task. She would have to find a doctor to act as an intermediary to obtain it from a research lab. Dorothy's friend Marian was the only physician she trusted not to betray her to the government, but she would probably not want any part of this. It went against everything the old wererat believed in.  
  
She stretched, trying to break the tension in her shoulders, and looked around her studio. Her glance fell upon her table, the surface covered with unfinished orders. Better to complete these first, she thought. Maybe keeping busy will clear my mind; I'm not being rational.  
  
Kirei soon lost herself in her work. It was only when her empty stomach began to rumble painfully that she realized how much time had passed. It was well after midnight.  
  
She turned off her torch and went into her little apartment to heat up some canned soup. The answering machine was on the counter nearest the stove--a quick glance at the message counter revealed a big red zero, glowing with an almost obscene brilliance. Her jaw tightened at that. Maybe someone called my voice mail, she thought hopefully, picking up her cell phone. A quick check proved equally fruitless.   
  
Kirei felt her heart fall with disappointment. They didn't miss me, she thought. They're probably relieved I'm gone. How could things have changed so much? How did I miss the signs?  
  
No longer hungry, she returned the unopened can to the pantry.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Leon reread the files on his desk. It was hard to believe that such an assassin wouldn't have to get out occasionally and flex their muscles. Shapeshifters had an almost pathological need to let their inner beast run free. Even his sweet Dorothy had to do so.  
  
If humans were so driven, how much more so would an animal-based shapeshifter be? Wouldn't such a monster have even less self-control?  
  
Following a hunch, Leon turned to the computer terminal on his desk and pulled up all the wolf attacks of the last 12 months. Fifty came up. Forty-eight involved known shapeshifters with long criminal records. They all had fingerprints. One involved a real wolf, a rabid one that had been shot dead at the time of the attack. The last one took place less than a month ago. In fact, it occurred the night of his reunion with Dorothy.  
  
A teenaged boy reported being attacked by a large white animal (either a wolf or a german shepherd--the boy wasn't sure) while walking in Paradigm Park that night. There was a vivid description of how fast and silent the ravenous beast had been, how viciously it had knocked him down. It was a miracle he hadn't been killed. Several polaroids of bruises from his fall were displayed, as well as a lab report concerning some white hairs found on his clothes. The hairs were definitely from some sort of canine, most likely a wolf.  
  
It WAS a little odd that the boy was neither bitten nor scratched, considering how savage he claimed the attack was. Maybe the thing got interrupted? That was a puzzle, but not the only one.  
  
Leon tented his fingers, thinking. Shapeshifter fur always matched the human's hair color. These hairs were white. Kirei had brown hair, right? He closed his eyes, trying to visualize her clearly from that single meeting. There had been something funny about the way light had reflected off her rough hair, a kind of silvery shimmer. He had assumed it was from some sort of product she used to keep the wild curls under control, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe only the underlying layer of fur was brown, while the longer, visible outer fur was that silvery white stuff.  
  
He decided to see if there was any recent information on file about her. He typed in "Snowolf, Kirei" and the same residential address that Dorothy used.   
  
Only two things popped up. One was a driver's license. Curious, he checked in with the DOT to see her record...somehow he wasn't surprised to see it was spotless. The other was a commercial business license id number. He typed in the code. The name "Whitewolf Studio" came up, along with the business address and phone number.  
  
Leon grinned briefly, pleased with himself. "Whitewolf" indeed! How stupid of her, how unprofessional...you'd think she had nothing to hide.   
  
He checked the original issue date for the license. Apparently she had had it for a few years. The place was already open when he had first met Dorothy, and he knew the redhead didn't know her back then. He wondered just how long Dorothy HAD known the brown-haired shapeshifter, and how they had met. He wondered if Kirei had targeted Dorothy, all the better to get close to Smith. He debated whether or not to do a more extensive search, then decided it would be a waste of time.  
  
He HAD to talk with Dorothy, find out the history of their relationship, maybe warn her if it didn't sound right (and warn Smith too...the negotiator might be a romantic rival, but he was still a law-abiding citizen and had a right to protection.)  
  
Meanwhile he had to type up the report of his findings, knowing that Dastun expected it on his desk in the morning. Duty came first; doing otherwise would result in a suspension. Leon knew he'd need all the resources of the Military Police to combat such a preternatural danger. His experiences at the RPD had taught him that.   
  
"Sooner started, sooner done," he muttered to himself. He reached for the keyboard.  
  
~~~~~  
  
As Roger made his way to Dorothy's room, he paused before Kirei's silent bedroom. He hadn't seen her since early that morning, when she rushed out of his room. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen much of either of his girls for a while, and BOTH seemed somewhat preoccupied. Did this Kennedy guy say something to Snowy also? No, Roger said to himself, that didn't make sense. Snowy was as mystified by Dorothy's moodiness as he was...yet she was quieter than usual after that trip to M.P.H.Q too.   
  
Another twinge of guilt shivered through him. Dorothy wasn't the only one he wasn't listening to. Snowy had tried talking to him the night she went to "Lucky Chang's," hadn't she? He had kept interrupting her, more concerned with the passing of time and her appearance than her attempts to get his attention. Was it about Kennedy?  
  
Something was bothering both of his girls, and he hadn't been paying attention. He had been taking his position as their alpha for granted, instead of treating it as the honor it was. As packmates, the girls would do anything for each other, and for him as well, even at the risk of their own well-being. They had saved his life on more than one occasion. He had to show them he was still worthy of their trust and love.  
  
He could start now to make things right. Maybe Dorothy had confided something, anything, to Snowy by now that would help fix everything.   
  
Roger knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Was the little shapeshifter asleep? He decided to enter, knowing she wouldn't mind being awakened if the reason involved her packmate.  
  
The room was pitch-dark. Even the curtains were tightly drawn against the moonlight. He couldn't see a thing. "Snowy? Little one?"  
  
No answer.  
  
The negotiator flicked on the light. The bed was still neatly made, untouched since the morning. He opened her closet, hoping that she had at least come back for her coat at some point during the day (the temperature had dropped precipitously after sunset, and she didn't handle cold very well in her human form.) It was still there, hanging mutely.  
  
Something wasn't right. He knew she had kept her appointment with Dastun, because the major would have said something otherwise. Dan hadn't mentioned her at all.  
  
Roger frowned. Kirei was very good at taking care of herself, but she always called in. She knew he would worry otherwise. Was it possible she had left a message with Norman?  
  
He turned, and noticed she had carelessly left the earrings he'd given her on her vanity. That wasn't like her either. He picked them up, and smiled at the memory of how pretty they looked on her. He decided to put them away so they wouldn't be lost.  
  
Roger opened Snowy's jewelry box and began to rummage through it, looking for the black earring case. As he did so something metallic fell out. It looked like a key ring with a pair of rectangular steel tags hanging off it.  
  
"Huh?" Curious, Roger picked it up. They were military dog tags. One was stamped "Snowolf, Kirei" with a series of numbers and letters stamped underneath. The other was similarly marked, but the name emblazoned on top was "Nightwolf, Shinji."  
  
Roger stared at the new mystery cupped in his palm. Who the hell was Shinji Nightwolf, and why did Snowy have his tags? Why did SHE have such tags? The coding looked official and vaguely familiar. It reminded him of the serial numbers on some of the Griffon's more sophisticated weapons systems. What did this mean?  
  
He squeezed his dark eyes shut, trying to calm his racing thoughts. First things first, Roger Smith, went the little voice in his head. Dorothy needs you NOW, more than ever. This can wait.  
  
He slipped the tags into his pocket, turned off the light, and strode down the hallway to his kitten.   
  
  
  
  
  
~~~~~  
  
Kirei unrolled her sleeping mat and sat down on it, frustrated and depressed. She was too tired to safely work anymore, but too restless to sleep. She considered going out for a run, but wasn't in the mood for that either.   
  
Growling quietly, she got up and paced the space like a too-small cage. Finally she went over to her closet, opened it and pulled out a large box. She placed it on the floor beside her futon and sat down cross-legged on the thick cotton mat. Kirei lifted the lid and carefully removed the contents.  
  
It was full of pictures--some photos, but mostly drawings--of both her old pack and her new. The little shapeshifter pulled everything out, arranging it all on the floor before her.  
  
Kirei looked at the oldest ones first. She had smuggled out the handful of photos of her original pack only days before the massacre. She had hidden them in the woods outside the lab, somehow knowing there wouldn't be time to gather anything when they made their escape.  
  
Snowolf sighed, looking at the familiar faces. That seemed to have been the only thing she'd been right about at that time. None of them had expected things to turn out the way they did.  
  
She spread the photos across her bed as if they were tarot cards, as if somehow the arrangement would reveal the truth to her. She didn't know why Shinji had failed to escape. He had been the strongest, smartest, bravest of them all. If only one of them was to have survived whole, it should have been him.  
  
Kirei realized that short of a miracle, she would never know.  
  
She picked up his picture, his golden eyes full of laughter. They had all agreed, if separated, to meet at the zoo. It was one of the few landmarks they could find unerringly by smell, because none of them were very familiar with the city.  
  
Kirei had waited faithfully at the entrance for a month. One morning, she was greeted by the faintest whiff of Shinji's scent. Overjoyed, she had followed it onto the zoo's grounds, trembling with hope as it strengthened.  
  
She finally found herself in the wild canine section, directly in front of the new wolf exhibit. Puzzled, she had explored the whole area. Even if he had disguised himself she would have known him immediately...but he wasn't there. Yet, the scent was as fresh as if he were beside her.   
  
"Shinji?" Was he hiding?  
  
There was a sudden rustling from the back of the cage before her, as the keeper released the animal within from its nighttime housing. A huge black wolf vaulted out, making a beeline for the little shapeshifter. He whined eagerly, thrusting a great paw between the bars toward her, his sun-colored eyes glowing with recognition.  
  
It was Shinji.  
  
Kirei tried to communicate with him, using the hand/paw signals they'd been taught. He merely looked at her, puzzled, and licked her hand. That's when she knew he was gone forever, and she was alone in the world.  
  
Or at least, until she met Dorothy.  
  
Kirei rummaged through the stacks of paper until she found what she was looking for. It was a strip of snapshots from an automated photo machine. The four pictures were of herself and Dorothy clowning around. It was one of the few times either of them had allowed themselves to be photographed.  
  
Kirei smiled, remembering. Meeting the redhead had changed her life for the better, even before Roger came into the picture. The brunette had hated the shapeshifter sub-culture she had found in the city. It was too cruelly violent for her sensibilities, seeming to mix the worst aspects of both human and animal. She didn't understand the constant pack fights, the continuous need to reset hierarchies, the casual attitude towards mutilation and bloody death.   
  
Her old pack had never been like this. As alphas, she and Shinji would have never allowed such outrageous behavior. The alphas here seemed to encourage it. It was senseless.  
  
As for mixing with purely human society...the lab workers had been her sole contact with normals. Their ultimate reaction to her kind, their dismay at her pack's refusal to become mindless killers despite all the torturous conditioning...it had made a powerful, painful impression. Humans were to be kept at arm's length. They were too dangerous, too quick to judge, or rather misjudge.  
  
Dorothy had been the exception that proved the rule. Snowolf had thought she was a mundane when the pretty redhead had introduced herself. She hadn't known that being an android let her mask that shapeshifter energy effectively. She seemed charismatic, not otherworldly.  
  
At any rate, it was Dorothy's genuine friendliness and curiosity that started it all. Kirei would have never approached had the circumstances been reversed. She was too gun-shy by this point. The only people (human or not) she generally spoke to now were work-related acquaintances. It was lonely, but blood was rarely spilled as a result.  
  
One evening, Kirei had commandeered the last empty table at Barnes and Nobles, covering it with a huge variety of books and magazines. She was doing research for a couple of new commissions, and was busy sketching when she felt someone staring at her. She looked up, directly meeting the bright green eyes of a beautiful redhaired girl looking intently at her.  
  
Puzzled, Kirei spoke: "Um, do I know you, miss?" There was something about the girl, a vibe, she couldn't quite place. If she didn't know better, she would have termed it "pack," but it was too faint. She had to be human.  
  
The lovely redhead blushed, smiled, and came closer. "Sorry, didn't mean to stare like that." She gestured gracefully at the table. "I was fascinated by your choices. I was thinking you must be a very interesting person, and that I'd like to talk to you."  
  
It occurred to Kirei that it had been a very long time since she had had a conversation purely for the pleasure of it. She cleared a broad swathe of the table and smiled back. "Sure, why not?" A few minutes chatting with a stranger in a public place could do no harm, right?  
  
To the surprise of both, those few minutes turned into several hours. It felt like a reunion between old friends. They agreed to meet again the next day, both blown away by the experience.  
  
The following afternoon, Kirei decided to confess to being a shapeshifter to Dorothy. If the girl wanted to be friends, it was only fair she know the truth. A lot of humans feared her kind (and with good reason) and the last thing she wanted was for the girl to feel duped.  
  
Dorothy was already in the quiet cafe when the brown-haired shapeshifter arrived. She wasn't alone, and didn't look very happy about it.  
  
Two men were standing over her and softly talking. One was in his early twenties, with bright blond curls and a goatee, and dressed in a flashy suit that perfectly matched his hair. Kirei had never seen him before. She recognized the other man though. He was in his early fifties, extremely buff, perfectly tanned, and completely clean shaven--eyebrows, head, body--the only hair visible were the black eyelashes framing his almost colorless blue eyes. He was dressed in skintight black leather and lots of expensive whitegold jewelry shaped like bones and teeth and claws.  
  
Kirei knew it was expensive because she had made every bit of it for him. He was known as Sweet William, and was anything but sweet. He was the alpha of the largest roughest pack in the city, and bad news in every way. Why was he bothering Dorothy?  
  
"What are you doing here, William?" Kirei asked, careful to keep the snarl out of her voice.  
  
Dorothy looked up at her, her green eyes wide with surprise and maybe fear. Great, thought Kirei--there goes THAT possible friendship. Meanwhile she kept her angry dark gaze fixed on the alpha. Whatever happened, she couldn't let him hurt the girl.  
  
"Why, Miss Snowolf, what a pleasure to see you again!" William reached out to take her hand; she crossed her arms instead. He chuckled in a growly sort of way. "Now, Snowy..." he said.  
  
"Only my friends call me Snowy. You DON'T qualify. Why are you here?" Kirei asked again, letting out the snarl this time.  
  
"This is a public venue. I have just as much right to be here as you do." He smiled, letting his sharp eyeteeth show. They were brilliant white against his tan. "Anyway, I'm here to interview a potential new member."  
  
Kirei shook her head. "I told you I'm not interested, not in your pack or anyone else's. I'm the stereotypical lone wolf."  
  
William laughed, a harsh, almost barking sound. The young blond man smirked broadly.  
  
"Don't flatter yourself, Snowolf. You're not the only single bitch in Paradigm, though I've not forgotten you either. Sooner or later you'll both come crawling on your bellies to me." He leered down at Dorothy. The blond man reached out and petted her bright hair. She jerked away, shaking (was it fear or anger? Kirei bet it was the latter.)  
  
"Now, now, Beck...You've gone and frightened the poor cub. Be a good human and leave her alone," chided William, wagging a beringed finger at him. The pair started to leave; the older man turned and grinned toothily before they exited: "This isn't over, ladies."   
  
They left.  
  
Kirei stared after them darkly, then sat down at the small table beside Dorothy. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched the girl's fingers, half-expecting her to jerk away from her too. Instead, Dorothy took her hand tightly. "Snowy?" she whispered hesitantly.  
  
Both girls began to talk at once, then stopped. They laughed, half in embarrassment, half in relief. A third patron entered the shop, looked at them curiously, then went to the counter to order a coffee.  
  
Kirei finally found her voice. "Let me guess. You're a shapeshifter too."  
  
Dorothy nodded and smiled.   
  
That had been the start of it.   
  
They had both learned early on to hide the truth of themselves from others. Neither human nor lycanthrope society was a comfortable fit for either of them.   
  
Now they had each other to depend on. It wasn't exactly a pack of their own, since there was no alpha, but it was as close as they could get to being one.  
  
Kirei put down the photo strip, frowning. It had been wonderful, up until the day Dorothy mysteriously vanished on her way home from work.  
  
She remembered how frantically she'd searched for her, notifying the police, putting up posters, hiring detectives, even confronting Sweet William on his own turf in case he had kidnapped her packmate. She had offered to take Dorothy's place...William had laughed at her at first. He realized she was serious when she offered to take a blood oath, binding her to him.  
  
"I'd love to take you up on that, Snowolf, but the truth is I don't have your friend, and I don't know who does. Sorry."  
  
A month passed, then two. Kirei continued to hunt for Dorothy, but without success. Even the police found nothing. It was as if the androwolf never existed.  
  
Meanwhile Sweet William began to pester her again. He had apparently decided that since she was now alone, she would be easy meat. Discovering she wasn't only made him more aggressive. Kirei rarely left the safe haven of Whitewolf anymore. She didn't want to fight.  
  
Six months passed with nary a clue. Then one day a man with a slight British accent called. He wanted to set up an appointment for a new client, a man named Roger Smith. Kirei wondered briefly if he was the famous negotiator she'd read about in the papers, wondered what he looked like too. She shrugged to herself. What did it matter? He was just another human. No big. Maybe if he had half a brain she could hire him to get William off her back.  
  
Later that week two people dressed in black walked into her studio at the appointed hour. One was the most beautiful man Kirei had ever seen, with an aura of power that filled the room and made her shiver. The other was Dorothy.  
  
Dorothy grinned at her friend. "Miss me?" she teased.  
  
Kirei stammered for words; the two shapeshifters leaped towards each other and hugged, chattering a mile a minute.  
  
Roger stood off to one side, watching. He hadn't seen his kitten look this happy, well, ever. He was glad he had persuaded her to let him find her friend. She had been so nervous, so unsure of her welcome, considering what had happened and how much time had passed.  
  
Kirei stepped away from her, still half convinced she was dreaming. "I can't believe you're back," she began, then stopped, overpowered by her emotions, by everything. The room started to spin and darken...she found herself in the strong arms of Dorothy's companion.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked. "You fainted." There was genuine concern in his warm voice. Their eyes met and...something intense...passed between them. Kirei felt herself tighten deep inside. Only Shinji had ever affected her that way.   
  
The man dropped his beautiful dark eyes a little too quickly, as if he'd felt something unexpected as well. He turned his handsome face towards the worried redhead and smiled. "I think we shocked your friend, kitten." He carefully helped Kirei get back on her feet. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again.  
  
"Ye-yes," stammered Kirei, still feeling overwhelmed. She didn't remember crying, but her face was covered with tears. "I thought you were dead, Dorothy. I thought I'd never see you again."  
  
The girls hugged again, both of them crying this time.   
  
After a few moments, Roger coughed loudly. "Dorothy, don't you think you should introduce us?" He smirked, watching the pretty redhead blush.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Roger--I'm not thinking, am I?" She turned towards Kirei. "Snowy, this is Roger Smith. He's my boyfriend..." she colored prettily "...and my hero."  
  
Kirei saw their eyes glow at each other. Whatever happened these last six months seemed to have had a happy ending at least, she thought, glad for her friend.  
  
"Roger, this is my best friend, Snowy. You've already heard all about her." She turned towards the other shapeshifter. "Or would you prefer I introduce you as Kirei Snowolf?"  
  
"Oh, no, 'Snowy' is fine. My friends always called me 'Snowy.' Maybe we can be friends too, Mr. Smith." She offered her right hand to shake.  
  
Smith took it. He had a nice handshake. Not too strong, not too weak.  
  
"Snowy it is, then. Call me Roger." He smiled. That was nice too.  
  
"Say, why don't we continue this over lunch?" he suggested. "My treat."  
  
Strange, Kirei reflected, how things happen. If they hadn't gone to that restaurant, hadn't bumped into William there, how different things might have been. William had threatened Kirei in front of both Dorothy and Roger. It wasn't the first time he had done this, but it was the most serious threat he had made, and the first time in front of witnesses. It was obvious to both Dorothy and Roger that he had frightened her, despite her denials. She finally admitted she had run out of appropriate options. She didn't say that the next step involved killing him; she didn't want to kill him. She hated violence.  
  
She looked at Roger instead. "You're a negotiator, right? Can't I hire you to negotiate a peace treaty between us? I can pay you."  
  
Roger shook his head no. "You need a bodyguard, Snowy. You don't really believe someone like him would honor a contract, do you?"  
  
Dorothy had been uncharacteristically quiet, deep in thought.  
  
"I know how to fix this," she said suddenly.  
  
Roger and Kirei both turned towards her.  
  
"We can have Snowy move in with us, Roger. There's lots of room in the house. I'd love to have her around." She smiled brightly, pleased with herself.  
  
"Oh, Dorothy, I couldn't intrude on you two like that! It wouldn't be right! I don't know how long I'd have to stay, you know William is not the kind of guy that takes 'no' very well."  
  
Dorothy looked at Roger, her green eyes pleading. "Please, Roger, wouldn't it be a good idea? You'd really like Snowy once you got to know her, and besides, she'd keep me company while you're at work. You know how empty that big house is."  
  
Roger tented his fingers and looked intently at both girls. He knew how close they had been, and was also aware of Kirei's fruitless search for her. Finally he smiled.   
  
"You're right, kitten, it IS a good idea. Welcome to the Smith household, Snowy. I just have a few simple rules to follow, and we'll get along fine."  
  
Kirei sat up, sighing. None of them had any idea of where that innocent offer was going to go. She opened up a sketchbook, finding a portrait of Roger in colored chalk. It was one of the first she had done of him, before he had learned to relax under her sharp gaze...before he had told her he loved her. He had tried desperately to look serious, and ended up with a faint smirk instead. Norman had laughed behind his hand when he had seen it, congratulating her on capturing Master Roger so well.  
  
There were other, later drawings of Roger, including several nudes. She touched the surface of one, carefully tracing the sensuous lines of his wonderful body. She blinked hard, remembering the session. It had been done the day after their first time together.  
  
Drawing him was almost like making love, only more intimate somehow. It was as if she were re-creating him with her heart as well as her hands.   
  
Kirei fell backwards onto her futon, her dark eyes closed, remembering the day they all acknowleged the truth.  
  
  
  
~~~~~  
  
Ada Wong smiled coldly to herself, her red lips a cruel curve on her beautiful face. Funny how small the world was! Who would have thought her old beau Leon Kennedy would have ended up back in Paradigm? Maybe she would look him up. He would be a useful ally on this mission, if it turned out to have any basis in fact.  
  
Meanwhile, there was background work to do, bits of hearsay about two fabulous beasts to track down and verify.   
  
One was the result of a kind of Frankensteinian R & D, using bits of DNA (instead of dead body parts) culled from wolves and humans to create a breedable, trainable shapeshifter. Predictably this experiment had ended much like the story, with the monsters proving to be both more and less than expected. The project had been closed down, but a recent audit suggested that neutralization might not have been as thorough as first thought. Someone might have counted a control wolf twice; once as itself, once as a test subject. Of course, it could also turn out to be nothing more than a clerical error. She shrugged gracefully to herself. It wouldn't be the first time such things happened, nor would it be the last.  
  
Ada wondered if it tied in somehow with the second rumor she was to investigate, something about a lycanthropic bio-android. Was it possible for such an amazing creature to even exist?  
  
If either shapeshifter was more than urban myth, she was under orders to bring it in. If she could find both, so much the better. If there was a way to somehow combine the two into one, her people would have the perfect weapon. They would be a treasure trove of experimental possibilities, worth untold millions--and she was guaranteed a nice cut of the profits.  
  
She'd already spent weeks out on the street gathering information. It had been a slow and dangerous process, but the handful of names and anecdotal stories were worth it. At least now she had an idea of what to look for, once she hacked her way into the Military Police's classified records.  
  
She set up her laptop and went to work. As Ada had expected, getting in was ridiculously simple. Like all cash-strapped police forces, they were perpetually behind the times with their firewalls and anti-spywear programs.  
  
Somehow the pretty Asian also wasn't surprised to find most of her queries led to reports filed by Officer Kennedy. No matter where the boy was posted, she mused, he managed to get the local horrorshow dumped in his lap. It was one of the things that made dating him so interesting.   
  
Wong brushed a short lock of gleaming black hair out of her dark eyes. Monsters to hunt, money to be made, and maybe the delectable Leon to pursue...this was going to be fun.  
  
Just for the hell of it, she typed in the old password Leon had used when they were still together. She smiled wickedly when it was accepted. How typical of the boy, to assume nobody would expect him to do something so obvious--or so careless.  
  
Ada laughed quietly to herself when her spywear showed her Leon was currently online. She discreetly pulled up the file he was working on. Her laughter died as she began reading. Suddenly those rumors were gelling into facts.  
  
The woman's fingers flew across her keyboard as she backtracked Kennedy's research. One name in particular seemed to have caught the young cop's attention: Kirei Snowolf. Knowing Leon, there had to be a damn good reason.  
  
Ada quickly did a search on Snowolf, then on every name frequently associated with her. After what felt like hours of reading, she sat back in astonishment.  
  
Snowolf shared an address with a powerful negotiator and Leon's ex? Dorothy Wayneright had been attacked by a werewolf? And the redhead's medical report!--Wong exhaled a deep, shaky breath.  
  
All of the pieces were beginning to fit. She would start checking them out by paying a visit to Whitewolf Studio in the morning.   
  
Ada placed a taser and a pair of sterling silver handcuffs in her purse. It never hurt to be prepared.   
  
~~~~~  
  
Kirei had found Roger attractive the moment he had entered her studio. She was pretty sure the feeling was mutual, but, to her relief, he was both too much a gentleman and too much in love with Dorothy to acknowlege that fact, let alone act on it.  
  
The brunette made it a point to control her emotions too. Instead, she and Roger sublimated their growing affection, forging a solid platonic friendship. Neither wanted to break faith with Dorothy. She was too important to both of them.  
  
The pretty redhead's insistance that her old friend move into the dark mansion seemed the ideal solution. Sweet William had continued making threats since Kirei was unattached to any pack, but she was now effectively out of his reach most of the time. Dorothy was no longer lonely when Roger was on long business trips, nor did he have to worry about her safety when he wasn't around to protect her.  
  
All seemed perfect in their little world, til one drowsy afternoon encounter opened their eyes......  
  
  
  
The brown-haired shapeshifter was alone on the terrace, busily sketching and enjoying the day's meager warmth. Norman was busy servicing the Big O (he would privately jest that the megadeus was almost as high-maintance as his employer.) Dorothy had class for another hour or so. Roger had been gone three days on a difficult negotiation and wasn't due home til the end of the week.  
  
Thus, she was pleasantly surprised when he unexpectedly returned early. Roger seemed rather tired and a touch irritable--the negotiation had concluded successfully, but the clients on both sides had been (as he sarcastically put it) "a nasty mix of pigheadedness and paranoia."  
  
At his request, she got him a large brandy. Roger downed half in a gulp, then shook his head in disgust. "I swear, Snowy, sometimes I wonder why I even bother with some of these people. There has to be a better way to make a living."   
  
He took another big swallow of the amber liquid, then pointed with the heavy glass towards her sketchbook. "You do okay with that stuff. Hell, I can paint and draw too--maybe I should consider another career change, eh?" He smirked, feeling the alcohol burn through him.  
  
Kirei shrugged. "My clients can be just as aggravating as yours. Some of them can't make up their minds about anything. Look, see these..." she shoved several delicate renderings towards him. "These are designs for a wedding gift. I've got less than a month to finish the piece, and the woman still doesn't know which one she wants. Sure you want to switch jobs, Roger?" She grinned at him.  
  
Roger laughed. She was good at doing that, making him laugh. "I see your point, little one. It really doesn't make a difference, does it? I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."  
  
He sat down beside her on the lounger and started going through the sketchbook on her lap. Roger leaned closer for a better look. "These are beautiful," he commented, turning towards her. Her smooth cheek accidently brushed against his nose, and he nuzzled her absently, too tired to think about his actions. The alcohol wasn't helping clear his mind either.  
  
Surprised, Kirei turned to face him. Their eyes met, darkness melting into darkness, their lips just touching, breathing in each other's warmth...and they kissed, softly at first, then harder, their hunger for each other shoving aside everything else at the moment--but only for that moment.  
  
Kirei leaped off the lounger, her face ashen. "I'm sorry, Roger, oh god I'm so sorry--I gotta go!" She fled, the drawings falling forgotten onto the tiles.  
  
Roger sat there, shocked, his face burning with shame. What have I done? he groaned inwardly. He picked up the brandy, stared at it as if it could answer him, then flung it to the ground, furious with himself. How could I be so STUPID? I AM a louse!   
  
"What's wrong, Roger?"  
  
It was Dorothy's voice. She'd come home just in time to see him pitch the glass.  
  
Stricken, Roger confessed everything, taking all the blame for what happened. "I didn't think it was possible to fall in love with two people at the same time," he whispered, heartsick. "Can you ever forgive me? Do you think Snowy could forgive me?"  
  
To his shock, Dorothy clapped her hands in delight, then hugged him tightly. "This is wonderful!" she crowed happily.  
  
"Wonderful? I fall for your best friend and it's wonderful?" The negotiator looked hard at her, his handsome face full of confusion. Why wasn't she furious? Why wasn't she hurt? He would have been, if the circumstances had been reversed.   
  
"Would you mind explaining, poppet? I don't understand."  
  
"We can be a real pack now, silly. You'd be the alpha for both of us. I was SO hoping this would happen, it took the two of you long enough, you're both so stubborn! Where is Snowy, anyway? We have to celebrate!"  
  
"Kitten, she didn't look very happy. I think she is going to leave," he said quietly, still troubled by his own actions.   
  
"Leave?" Dorothy grabbed Roger's hand and pulled him up. "She can't leave, not now!"   
  
They found Kirei in the middle of packing.  
  
"I can't impose on your kindness anymore," she said rapidly. "I'm not a cub, er, a child. I can handle my own problems." She couldn't look at either of them. She was too ashamed. She had no excuse for losing control like that.  
  
Dorothy touched her shoulder. "I know about the kiss, Snowy. I know Roger's fallen in love with you too. You must answer me honestly now. Are you in love with him?"  
  
The little shapeshifter squeezed her eyes tight shut, her deep blush the silent answer to her friend's question. "I have to leave, Dorothy. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to betray you, either of you. I never want to come between you and Roger. Please don't blame him--he was tired and...and I'm leaving before I cause any more trouble." Bitter tears glittered in her brown eyes.  
  
"No, no, you don't understand." Dorothy hugged the distraught woman, stroking her rough hair as if soothing a child. "We both WANT you to stay. We can have our own pack now, a proper pack with our own rules, just the three of us." She smiled at her. "Don't you want to be packmates?" she teased.  
  
Kirei just stood there, stunned.  
  
"You both want me to stay," she echoed softly. She couldn't believe it, just couldn't. She had dreamt of this, but never dared hope. She had no right, she wasn't like them, she wasn't human...  
  
"Of course we do! We BOTH do! Snowy, this would be perfect, can't you see that? We'd be together, and Roger loves both of us, and...and..." a note of doubt crept into her voice.   
  
"Um, you ARE in love with Roger, aren't you?" The pretty redhead suddenly looked anxious.  
  
Roger stood quietly, his hands deep in his pockets. There was a strange expression on his face as he looked at the two girls. Was it possible? he wondered, hoping. Could we do this?  
  
Kirei looked at them both, then shook herself.  
  
"Yes," she finally answered softly. "Yes, I am, very much so."  
  
She looked up at Roger shyly, a small smile on her face. He smiled back at her, then wrapped his arms around the two girls and pulled them close. He kissed their faces gently.   
  
"Who would have thought I'd be so lucky?" he murmured, relieved. 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17  
  
A couple of weeks passed, but Kirei remained stubbornly celibate. She still found it all too hard to believe. She loved being with them, and feared that taking the next step would ruin everything.  
  
Her heart believed them but her head didn't. She kept telling herself that that kind of physical closeness wasn't necessary, that she was doing just fine as things currently stood. Yet the truth was that she needed to be touched, to be held, just as much as she needed air or water. Some part of her was starving for the lack of it. Despite her bluster to Sweet William that she was a lone wolf, the fact remained that wolves were social creatures. They could not survive in the wild for long if alone. They would die of loneliness.   
  
She had been alone too long already.  
  
Meanwhile, neither Roger nor Dorothy were making things easier for her. Roger, gentlemanly as always, never pushed her. However, he rarely let a day go by without a light pet or chaste kiss, a far more restrained version of his comfortable intimacy with Dorothy. For her part, Dorothy seemed to go out of her way to leave the two of them alone in potentially romantic situations.  
  
Even in her dreams, Kirei found no relief. Roger was there too, with his beautiful dark eyes and gleaming black hair, overpowering her with his sleek seductiveness. She'd wake up whimpering, every inch of her body aching for him.  
  
The magnifying tug of the full moon finally pushed her over the edge. While it wouldn't force her to shift (since she wasn't a "normal" lycanthrope, if normal could be applied to any type of shapeshifter) the lunar disc did call out other deeper things in her blood, a wildness that she could barely control.  
  
Kirei had just come back from a long run, hoping the exhaustive effort would blunt the teeth of her need. Standing beneath the shower, feeling the water stream down her steaming skin--she suddenly wanted to feel Roger's heat against her, feel his power pour through her.   
  
It was too much. She couldn't fight it anymore.  
  
Taking just enough time to slip in her diaphragm, Kirei grabbed her black silk robe (a gift from Roger) and padded silently down to his bedroom. Standing outside the dark oak door, she could smell his deliciously masculine scent, a warm clean mix of soap and his freshly washed body...and a whiff of Dorothy's light perfume.  
  
WHAT am I doing? she thought, shocked back to her senses. She turned to go when the door opened. It was Dorothy, wearing a short slip-style black nightie that left little to the imagination. She was smiling.   
  
"I was beginning to think I'd have to drag you here myself," she said, giggling, and pulled the startled woman into the room.  
  
It was dark, illuminated only by the dancing glow of the roaring fireplace. Roger was sitting at the edge of his big bed. He was bare-chested, his hair boyishly messy, the coal colored blanket covering his lap. He didn't seem to be wearing anything else.  
  
He looked intently at Kirei, firelight glittering in his large black eyes.  
  
The little shapeshifter couldn't read his expression in the flickering shadows, but she could feel the weight of his gaze. She shivered inwardly, wanting to flee, wanting to stay.  
  
Dorothy tugged her over to him (Kirei couldn't escape the strength of the pretty androwolf's grip) and placed her small hand squarely in Roger's large palm. He closed his fingers around it, holding it tightly.  
  
Kirei, bewildered, looked at both of them. "But, but..." she stammered, then stopped. She was at a complete loss for words, her brown eyes wide.  
  
Roger lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed her knuckles, smiled, rubbed the back of her hand across his cheek.  
  
Dorothy lightly kissed Kirei's cheek, and also smiled. "Pack is pack," the pretty redhead said. "What is mine, is yours." At that, she left, closing the bedroom door behind her.  
  
She was alone with Roger.   
  
Fear and desire thrilled through Kirei, making her tremble. She was so afraid (it was funny when she thought about it later. She could have killed Roger with a single blow if she shifted, but she was afraid to be in bed with him...not afraid of what she might do, but of what HE might do.)  
  
She had never really made love in human form before. The female members of her pack had been taught just enough to satisfy a human master, simply another joyless function to perform if required. To be with a packmate in human form, with someone who loved you, who you loved--this was forbidden. Anything beyond a kiss, a caress, was severely punished. Lovemaking between shapeshifters was in wolf-phase only, supposedly in case of accidental conception; that guaranteed the embryo would develop as a cub, not a human. Her kind were to be born furred and tailed, or not at all (Kirei had heard the rumors of human-phase infants being terminated at birth.) Whatever the reason, it helped reinforce the view that they were merely animals, chattel to be used as seen fit.  
  
To be truly naked with a lover, skin to skin, hands to touch with, lips to kiss with--no thick coats of fur or toothy muzzles or blunt paws to dull sensation--it was terrifying.  
  
Yet she was in love with Roger, and he was human.  
  
Feeling lost, the little shapeshifter let Roger pull her gently onto his cloth-covered lap. He didn't try to kiss or force himself on her. Instead, Roger petted her rough hair, threading his fingers through the damp tendrils. He took her chin lightly in his hand and turned her face towards him. To her surprise, Roger nuzzled her cheek and ear, then offered her his unprotected throat in a traditional wolf's greeting.   
  
This (as Kirei later learned) had been Dorothy's suggestion. She understood the depth (if not the cause) of her packmate's disquiet. She thought the familiar ritual would comfort her.  
  
Dorothy had been right. The gesture did reassure Kirei. She humbly kissed the big pulse in Roger's neck, not biting at all, then submissively offered her throat in return. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the expected bite as he established his ranking as her alpha. She hoped he wouldn't savage her, as she had seen happen to others joining Sweet William's pack.  
  
Roger surprised her again. The negotiator didn't bite her. He kissed her as delicately as she had kissed him, a butterfly touch lingering on the pale velvety skin of her neck.  
  
"I don't understand," she said, raising her eyes to his. "You and Dorothy are alpha, and I'm..." She didn't finish her thought, confused.  
  
Roger smirked, but his black eyes were gentle. "We're all equals here, Snowy. No alpha, no beta, no omega, not in practice, anyway. All the same, even though we're all different. That will be our pack's strength."  
  
His smirk broadened into a silky smile, watching the topazy lights start to gleam in the brown depths of her eyes as his words sank in. He caressed the fragile contours of her cheek and jaw with his knuckles, then again ran his fingers through her silvery brown hair. It was as soft as fur.  
  
"I love you, little one," he said. "We won't do anything you don't want to do, not now, not ever. I promise." He pointed to a condom packet on the nightstand. "I'm even prepared if you decide you want me."  
  
Kirei started to speak, then stopped, studying his expression. If I decide? MY choice? There was no deceit in his face, in his voice, only a sense of love and caring. She hadn't known what to expect, but it surely wasn't this.  
  
Her pulse now racing, she leaned towards him, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. The tip of her pink tongue pushed questingly against his lips, sliding against his teeth. Roger unhesitatingly yielded to her, letting her freely explore him. He liked that she felt safe enough to make the first move.   
  
When she withdrew, he took her mouth in turn, his tongue thrusting playfully forward, moving against hers. She tasted pleasantly, faintly, of the spiced chai she liked so much.  
  
Roger was deliberately delicate in his handling of her. He took his time to soothe and court her, to win her trust as if she were some mysterious wild thing that would flee at the slightest hint of danger--which in a sense she was, he realized. He smiled inwardly at the notion. This little shapeshifter was so full of secrets!  
  
Her breathing deepened as he explored her beneath the thin fabric, cupping her breasts, tracing every curve and hollow. Kirei wanted to roll against him, to soak his warm scent into her skin. She wanted to luxuriate in the smooth solid feel of his wonderful powerful body so utterly naked against hers. She shrugged out of the robe, letting it spill like black water onto the floor.  
  
"You're so beautiful," Roger murmured, admiring her. He was getting increasingly aroused. Kirei could feel him growing beneath her, becoming big and firm, only the dark blanket keeping them apart. The faint musk of his desire burned through her; she wanted to lick him like candy, savor the alkaline taste of his excitement.  
  
She rose up on her knees, pressing herself against him. She nuzzled his smooth face and silky hair, biting softly, then kissing away the invisible marks.  
  
Roger encircled her waist in his arms, cuddling her against him. He shaped her slender body with passionate kisses and slow rough strokes of his tongue, her murmurs of pleasure spurring him on. Her compact breasts were too tempting to resist. He teased the pink nipples with his lips and tongue, listening to her purr, then filled his mouth with her soft flesh. He closed his eyes, suckling contentedly.  
  
Kirei felt drunk from Roger's touch, overwhelmed by sensation. The little shapeshifter had never experienced anything like this.  
  
So this is how humans make love, she thought, giving in to Roger's sweet hot kisses, his gentle hands, the soft wet warmth of his tongue exploring her. A tiny part of her grieved, wishing she could have shared this with Shinji; they hadn't had a clue about what they had been denied.   
  
"What are you thinking about, little one?" The question brought her back.   
  
"This," she answered quickly, beginning some explorations of her own. She was pleased to hear Roger's approving growl as she touched him, mouthed him. If she had a tail in this form, she would have wagged it.  
  
Something fiercely playful opened in her heart, encouraged by his reactions. All of her fears of loving him vanished. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she felt safe, safe to be, safe to love. She pushed him down lightly. "My turn," she said, smiling.  
  
Roger chuckled and slid to the middle of the great bed. He sprawled invitingly on his back, running a quick hand to brush his hair out of his eyes, then crossing his arms beneath his head, raising himself partially up from the lavish pillows. The golden flicker of light from the fireplace danced over the perfect angles of his features, making him look like some beautiful ancient god awaiting sacrifice.  
  
"I'm all yours," he chuckled, wondering what she was going to do.  
  
Kirei sat on her heels, her eyes shining with unconditional love as she gazed at him. It was the way of the wolf pack; as of this moment she was his completely, body and soul. Now it was Roger's turn to tremble inwardly. No one had ever looked at him quite that way before.  
  
After a moment's hesitation, Kirei moved over him, supporting herself on her hands and knees. She reached out with one small hand and began to stroke his face, her warm fingertips oddly smooth and soft, as if she were wearing gloves of the finest thinnest leather. She followed the graceful contours of his broad deep chest, traced the hard muscularity of his stomach, played briefly with the thin line of dark hair bisecting it from navel to groin.  
  
Roger found himself holding his breath, watching her. She seemed utterly absorbed by her explorations, as if she'd never touched a naked man before. He wondered briefly if this was her first time...it would certainly explain a lot. He would have to be even more gentle.  
  
Kirei leaned down and slowly dragged her tongue along the inside curve of his hip, sending shivers through Roger's body. She kissed her way back up his belly, across his chest, pausing to feel the quick strong beat of his racing heart against her soft lips. She pressed her sharp white teeth against the taut skin, biting gently, then nuzzling.  
  
Roger began to knead her upper back and shoulders, his fingers pressing into her hot flesh. Kirei's breath was warm and moist against his skin, her tongue deliciously wet as she licked one stiffened nipple, then the other.  
  
Roger purred, then growled happily as she began to suckle. His growl deepened as her hand blindly worked its way under the blanket, following that fine dark trail of hair to its ultimate destination.  
  
The rumbling growl changed to a startled gasp when she cupped his groin so so gently, full and heavy in her small warm hand. One finger lightly stroked the sensitive flat space beneath it, the skin as delicate as a child's.  
  
"Careful..." Roger could barely speak. "Careful..."  
  
"I would never hurt you," she replied seriously, releasing him. Her hand moved up, taking hold of his hardened shaft with gentle firmness, her fingers stroking in a steady rhythm.  
  
Roger groaned, squirming. He couldn't answer when she asked if it pleased him, could only moan and nod yes. He couldn't stop watching her, his half-closed eyes drowning dark and hungry for more of whatever she planned to do.  
  
Kirei suddenly dimpled a smile in his direction. Letting go of his manhood, she slid headfirst halfway under the blanket, throwing it over him up to the waist in the process.   
  
"What are you do--OH!" Roger cried out as a warm glow of pleasure spread quickly through him. What WAS she doing? Somehow he sat up, managed to pull the black covers aside.  
  
He still couldn't see! She was crouched over him, her long hair blocking his view like a curtain. Whatever she was doing felt incredible, as if she'd wrapped the full length of him with her tongue...which was impossible, wasn't it?  
  
Roger fell back helplessly onto the pillows, writhing beneath her, his slim hips thrusting instinctively. He felt himself start to tighten, his control wavering....  
  
"No, stop, STOP!" he begged reluctantly, wanting her to continue.  
  
It took her a moment before she could respond. She shook her head slightly. "You don't like this?" She looked up at him, loose curls of silvery brown hair veiling her face, her topazy eyes a glowing question. She licked her swollen lips delicately, like a cat who had finished some cream.  
  
Roger smiled sheepishly, trying to catch his breath. "No, um, yes...little one, I like that VERY much." Almost TOO much, he thought, sitting up and pulling her close. "But I still want to play, and I won't be able to if you do much more of that." He lightly nibbled her ear, then licked its outer curve.  
  
Kirei giggled sweetly, and turned to kiss him. Lovemaking with Shinji had never been like this. Sex with anyone had never been like this.  
  
She leaned into his body, her arms resting on his broad shoulders. Her hands seized fistfuls of his thick black hair as they kissed hard and deep.  
  
Roger embraced her small waist tightly, then slid one hand lightly across her flat stomach, tickling her. Before she could react, he boldly moved his hand down lower, first toying with the damp curls, then slipping between her legs. He began to play with the wet folds, his fingers stroking repeatedly. He slipped one finger inside her, caressing the soft warmth of her.  
  
Kirei yipped in surprise, falling against him. This too was new.   
  
Roger carefully laid her down on her back, still petting her intimately. He pressed love bites into her smooth neck and breasts, lightly marking the ivory skin as she squirmed whimpering beside him. He opened his mouth wide, taking most of one small breast, then suckled hard, his tongue rough against the stiffened nipple.  
  
She cried out, her hands grabbing the smooth sheets as she thrashed, her body caught between his busy mouth and busier hand.  
  
"Oh god," she begged. "Please, Roger, please..."  
  
Roger rubbed his body against hers like some great cat, then released her breast to nuzzle her ear. "Do you want me?" he whispered, aching for her, hoping she'd say yes. "Do you?"   
  
His hand moved, touching deep inside her again.  
  
Kirei moaned, a low primal sound. As if dazed, she slowly reached down to gently stroke the darkly swollen head of his shaft, feeling the blood-hot firmness of him, hard and ready.  
  
"You're so big," she murmured hungrily.  
  
Roger glanced at himself and smirked briefly, feeling oddly proud. He bent down to her and tenderly kissed her forehead. "All for you, sweet Snowy, if it pleases you." The look in her glowing eyes answered him.  
  
He reached for the condom when she stopped him. "That's not necessary," she said. "I want you naked inside me."  
  
He felt himself tighten at her unexpected words, get harder still. "Huh? But Snowy, you don't want to take the chance of..."   
  
She placed a silky finger on his lips and smiled. "I came prepared," she laughed gently. "I didn't know what to expect. Besides, I'm a shapeshifter. We don't get or give STDs." She snuggled against him kittenishly.  
  
"Always thinking ahead, eh?" Roger teased her, kissing the tip of her nose. "That's my girl." He smiled down at her. There was no more fear in her, only love and trust. He knew with all his heart she WAS his girl now, would do anything for him...and that he would do anything for her as well. It WAS possible to love two very different people with equal passion, equal depth.  
  
He rubbed his chin and cheek against her face, breathing in the warm sweet scent of her, the fine tendrils of her hair tickling him gently. She was utterly open to him, so vulnerable...he had to ask one more time, had to be sure.  
  
"My dearest little she-wolf, do you truly want to become one with me, to join our bodies, to be of one heart, one soul?"  
  
There was no hesitation in her answer. "Yes."  
  
Her soft voice was full of quiet joy.  
  
Serious now, Roger moved over her, caging her small form beneath his. His eyes were dark and soft, melting with his love for her, his ache for her. He wanted to fill her with his passion, to pleasure her with the skills of his body.  
  
He flexed his slim hips so that just his tip entered her, then moved forward slowly. Roger slid carefully into her, each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, as if making room for himself within the wet heat of her body's tight embrace. She felt lushly wonderful around him, each slight movement sending another thrill of desire through him.  
  
A faint whimper came deep from Kirei's throat, turning into a kind of purring sigh as he finally sheathed himself fully within her. She raised her hands to his face, pulling him down with surprising strength. They kissed hungrily, pressing their lips against each other's throat, mouth, eyes, whatever fevered skin was in reach. Roger briefly crushed her against the bed's surface, holding her tightly in his arms, burying his face in the wild dark halo of curls framing her.  
  
Roger filled her completely; even lying motionless, trapped beneath him, Kirei could feel the heavy beat of his pulse against the walls of her body, felt herself twitch and tighten around the thick length of his shaft. She thought she would die from the sheer pleasure of holding him so deeply...and then he began to move.  
  
It all seemed to be a kind of waking dream.  
  
Roger was deliberate at first, still taking his time with her. He was enjoying himself too much to rush, loved watching the play of emotion across her sweet face.   
  
Their bodies entwined in a kind of slow dance: stroking, touching, kissing, nipping, expressing their mutual need far more eloquently than mere words could ever do.  
  
A rosy flush of heat gradually colored Kirei's face. She cried out his name, curling herself tighter around him, driving him deeper inside her.  
  
Roger thrust harder now, faster, giving her his full weight and strength as she writhed ecstatically beneath him. Nothing existed but this golden moment, this growing ache to pour himself into her, to meld their two selves into one. He swallowed her cries as she surrendered to him, felt himself shatter into bliss as he took possession of her.  
  
She had cried in his arms afterwards, still not quite able to believe. Roger had kissed away her tears, murmuring words of love, of comfort, assuring her that this was all real, that this was her life now. She would always be loved, always be wanted.  
  
She had a home for now and for always with him and Dorothy.  
  
A pack of her own.  
  
Kirei sat up abruptly. She was trembling violently. How could something so wonderful end like this, without warning? It made no sense.  
  
There had to be something more going on, something deeply hidden to cause all of this. Roger was not a frivolous man despite his youth. He could be thoughtless, headstrong, but he would never deliberately toy with someone's heart. He might go out of his way not to hurt her feelings, but knew her well enough to be honest with her. He knew she'd prefer a blunt truth to a silky dissemblance. He had learned that much about her early on, and had the scars to prove it.  
  
Again, she thought about Dorothy's reaction to the gifts, to the handsome new officer at M.P.H.Q. The key to this mess was there somewhere. She wished she could get ahold of the redhead privately, confront her about just what the hell was going on. She had promised to say nothing to Roger, but that didn't mean she couldn't ask Dorothy directly...but she was never around.  
  
She would not jump to conclusions. Let the game play out, Kirei thought to herself as she re-packed the box. The final option could wait. 


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Dorothy had fled to her room as soon as she'd gotten home that afternoon. It was almost a relief to know neither Roger nor Snowy were in. She wasn't ready to face either of them just yet. She'd even made it a point to avoid Norman; Perot's kittenish greeting was all she could handle.

As she showered, the redhaired android cried until she had no more tears left. She knew she needed to think about this mess, to finally sort out facts and feelings from one another and make some sense of it all. No matter what she did, this was going to hurt.

Dorothy next dressed for bed, choosing a delicate negligee that had been a recent gift from the negotiator. The butterfly caress of inky silk against her pale skin felt both oddly reassuring and painful, like a whisper of love she might end up losing. Trying to control her emotions, she bent down to pick up Perot from the floor, cradling the kitten against her bosom to comfort herself with his unquestioning affection. She nuzzled his cloud-soft grey fur briefly, then placed him on the bed and sat down beside him. "I wish you could talk," she murmured to the little creature batting at the hem of her nightgown. She sighed, then glanced over at her nightstand. She kept a notepad and pen there for jotting down her ideas; perhaps the best way to think this through would be by writing everything. Doing that would somehow glue each bit of this down, keep the various trains of thought from crashing into one another.

For the next few hours, the petite androwolf tried to examine what exactly had been going on in her life to bring her to this situation. She drew elaborate flowcharts, made lists of pros and cons for this and that, delved into the contrasts and similarities of Roger and Leon, what she loved and disliked about both men, how they made her feel.

Finally, utterly spent, she fell asleep, Perot curled up in her ink-stained arms, the chart-filled notepad and pen beside her.

She dreamt of cool soft sheets and large warm hands, of Roger's kisses pressed sweet and hard against her willing mouth.

"Like that, poppet?" he asked in her dream, his voice low and full of erotic temptation. She nodded, green eyes closed with pleasure, sensing him move around her to massage her shoulders. Smith nipped at her ear from behind, his teeth tugging ever so gently before taking the lobe and sucking playfully. "I just want to make you happy," he whispered, nuzzling her bright hair. "You know that."

I know, she wanted to reply, but her words were swallowed by an unexpected kiss, this one gentle and questioning, a tongue petting her own almost teasingly.

Roger didn't kiss like that.

Breaking the kiss, Dorothy opened her eyes to blink surprised at Leon Kennedy kneeling naked before her. He leaned forward, his blond hair falling into his eyes as he brushed his face against her like a drowsy jungle cat, the way he always used to late at night when they were both sleepy and warm in bed.

Confused, the redhead backed away from him, only to bump against warm bare skin. Tilting her head up to see who was behind her, she was met with another kiss, now from the negotiator. His fingertips stroked the taut grace of her neck as his mouth slowly explored hers.

"What is happening?" she asked in soft confusion when he reluctantly let her go. "I don't understand, how can you both...?"

"It's all right, poppet," Smith answered, smiling that knowing smile of his, his dark eyes fixed on hers. "We just want to make you happy."

Unable to stop a dream-smile of her own, Dorothy nodded in relief. "I am very happy..."

"Then so are we," Leon murmured. The blond moved closer to Dorothy, delicately nipping her shoulder, the bite barely pressing against her pale flesh. He slid his fingers lightly along her inner thigh, making her shiver.

Roger pressed closer too, wrapping his arms around her body, his hands touching her in all the right places. He buried his face in her fiery hair, kissed and nibbled the nape of her neck in the most delicious way.

Despite being so delightfully kissed, so wonderfully caressed by two pairs of warm hands that knew her so well, Dorothy fought to keep her wits about her, but it was a battle she soon lost. The redhead felt herself sinking beneath their attentions, beneath Roger's kisses so slow and loving, beneath Leon's kisses so teasing and passionate.

She gave up, despite the impossibility of the situation. "I love you...both..." she sighed happily. "Stay with me..."

"Dorothy." Roger's voice answered her, low and oddly distant. "Dorothy, Dorothy..."

Smith eased the door open to Wayneright's bedroom carefully. It was only midnight, far too early for his redheaded kitten to normally be asleep. He'd noticed the streak of light beneath the oaken door, but she hadn't answered his repeated knocks. It wasn't like her to ignore him, even if she wanted to be left alone. At the very least, she would have told him she wanted privacy.

Still, he was rather surprised to find her asleep, deep in the throes of a dream. As he quietly moved beside her bed, he could hear her talking. "Stay," she muttered, her voice strangely yearning. "Stay with me."

Smith's brows knotted as he looked down at her, puzzled by all of this. Was this another part of the mystery? He reached down to take hold of her shoulder and shook her gently. "Dorothy. Dorothy?"

The dainty biodroid woke in stages, head turning right, then left, dark lashes fluttering as her large eyes reluctantly opened. "Wha--Roger?" She blinked at him, not quite sure if she was still asleep or not.

The negotiator knelt at her bedside, tenderly stroking her bangs from her eyes. "You were dreaming, poppet," he explained softly. "Are you okay?"

"I...I think so." Dorothy sat up carefully, as if she was dizzy. Perot tumbled off her onto the floor, still deep in his own dreaming. The redhead glanced down at the unconscious ball of grey fur, then turned her attention back to the young man kneeling beside her. She tensed, seeing the concern in his black eyes. "Roger, are you alright? Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," he answered quickly, continuing to stroke her hair; he knew such petting always soothed her. She looked so tired, so sad. Something was troubling her, and it was more than a bad dream. He waited patiently, watching one of her slender hands wipe at her eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked again.

Dorothy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then shook her head. "No. No, I'm not okay at all."

The flatness of her quiet voice struck Roger like a slap across his face. Something HAD been going on. Snowy's mysterious dog tags vanished from his mind. "What happened, kitten? Tell me, we'll make it right."

Dorothy suddenly reached out and hugged him, burying her nose in the silky black hair behind his ear and breathing him in. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "Please, I'm sorry."

Smith held his tongue, instead sliding onto the bed beside her. Normally, he would have immediately taken charge, pushing hard for answers with this opening. Lately, though, the more he tried to push, the more she seemed to pull away. Better to let her reveal herself as she chose. His patience was soon rewarded.

Dorothy clung silently to him for another moment, then let him go, dropping her hands into her lap. She took a deep shaky breath, rubbed her eyes briefly, stared at her palms as if searching for something. Another moment silently passed, until she reached a trembling hand up to her forehead. She pressed an invisible spot to display her disk drive with a click and a whirr. Its softly glowing light haloed her heart-shaped face in blue, as if she were some electronic angel, the tears sliding down her cheeks shimmering like moonstones. "I have to tell you something," she said haltingly. "It's about this, and about the parking ticket."

Smith inhaled sharply; he couldn't help it. "I knew it. I knew it all the time--that cop, he said something to you."

Dorothy's lips parted in a soft o. "What?"

Roger stroked her cheek, tracing her tears. "That cop, Kennedy, he said something to hurt you, upset you, didn't he?"

The redhead shook her head, hair fanning over her shoulder, eyes wide with surprise. "Is that what you thought all this time? That he had made me uncomfortable?" A small nervous smile played over her lips.

"Apparently I'm wrong," Smith responded, slightly annoyed by the smile. "Care to enlighten me?" This wasn't exactly going as he'd hoped.

Dorothy frowned. "If you're going to make this even more difficult--."

The negotiator reminded himself about not pushing her. "No, I'm sorry. It's just...I'm concerned, you know that."

She nodded, accepting his apology. "I know. It's so hard, though..." She paused. "Roger, you know that Snowy and I are pack." The words were rushed, as if she feared she'd never get them out otherwise.

He smirked slightly, despite himself. "Of course, poppet. What of it?"

"You never asked how I became a wolf."

Roger felt himself tighten at that. It was true, he'd never asked her, or Snowy either for that matter. Pack was pack, as the girls liked to say. Dorothy was a wolf, Snowy was a wolf. He understood all the painful implications of those facts, knew that becoming a shapeshifter generally involved an initiation no one wanted to remember. He had never shared the prejudices of his society in regards to androids or shifting or anything else, choosing to judge the individual for who they were instead of what they were. Thus, he had never felt compelled to question the situation, as long as he had both his girls in his arms.

For the first time he felt guilty about not asking. He'd simply taken things for granted, quietly accepted the fact that Dorothy was strong as a truck and could fight her way through almost anything, that Snowy had the skills and reflexes of a professional soldier, and was almost as powerful as Dorothy despite not having an android body.

He looked at the redhead beside him, terribly aware of how physically dainty she appeared despite everything. He had never thought to ask what it had taken to make her this way. What had she struggled through? What had she bled for that he didn't know about, hadn't been willing to ask about? His first impulse was to touch her, but he decided to do the hard thing instead: "I'm sorry, poppet. I didn't know if you wanted to talk about it. I thought...that you would tell me on your own if you wanted me to know." He shrugged, embarrassed a little by the poor excuse.

It seemed to be the right thing to say, though. Dorothy looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his squarely.

"Well. it wasn't much fun," she admitted with a little chuckle. Her face quickly sobered again. "I used to waitress."

Smith felt his lips twitch upwards into a smile at that. She would never have to wait tables again, never have to balance trays on her slim arms again. Not while he was around.

She continued: "I used to waitress in a coffee shop, and one day a customer got out of hand." Her expression was grave, as if she were admitting sins, was awaiting judgement.

"How out of hand?" Roger asked, though he could guess at the answer.

"So out of hand that a metal skeleton was one of two things that saved my life, and now I live it with a wolf beneath my skin as well." She stroked her forehead again, almost absently, retracting the disk drive, the smooth skin closing over it magically.

Roger did touch her then, running a gentle hand up and down her bare arm soothingly, feeling her shudder with the awful memory, or perhaps the feel of his skin against hers. "Dorothy, my kitten, my treasure, you kn--" And then it hit him. "One of two things that saved your life. What was the other?"

Even as he asked the question, he had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be. His hunch soon proved correct.

Dorothy blinked deep dark eyes at him, her pupils wide. "A police officer. Officer Leon Kennedy. He held the lycanthrope away, kept him from finishing me off until help arrived. He saved my life." She closed her eyes tightly, biting her lips.

Roger's breath slid out of him in a long sigh. He'd had it all wrong. Not only were Dastun's opinions of Kennedy true, Roger actually OWED the guy. He was about to apologise...then Dorothy started to speak again, interrupting him.

"There's more," she whispered. "I wanted to tell you all along, but it was so uncomfortable. After he saved me, after I recovered...we became lovers for a while. He broke it off..."

Roger felt his hackles rise and his teeth grit. If this guy was Dorothy's hero, why was she now infected with lycanthropy, why was she living in his house, sleeping in his bed instead of Kennedy's? She's mine, he thought ruthlessly. You didn't appreciate what you had, to break off with her. You were too little too late then, and just too damn late now...it didn't matter, it was the past. She was his now.

He gripped her shoulders, trying to keep his hold light when he really wanted to lock her in his arms and squeeze to feel her there. "Why on earth were you afraid?"

"I can't lose you," she moaned.

"Lose me? I had lovers before you, I never assumed I was your only one. Don't be silly--."

"I'm not being silly!" Her voice was a growl, with a razor's edge he rarely heard in it. "It wasn't just that, it was---Argh, you and the police...I just...I was afraid..." She shook her head as she searched for the right words. "Please, Roger, I see the way you and Dan tense up when you're in the same room. You can pretend all you like, pour your endless cognac and swap information, but the air will never be still between the two of you. You couldn't handle what the force had become, and Dan couldn't handle that you walked out. Nothing can change that."

The negotiator opened his mouth to argue, but she was right. "What," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, "does this have to do with your...friend?"

"My...'friend'..." she echoed (apparently his voice hadn't been calm enough, Smith realized) "...is an excellent policeman. He is what the standard was before Paradigm's corrosive influence took root. He serves. He protects. He loves his job. God, he's you, Roger, before you became aware of the corp's tainted heart." Her voice was ragged with feeling. "I could not tell you...I thought you'd be angry if you knew what he was, or that despite all that he failed me somehow."

"I'm confused..." This still made no sense to him, as if some major part of the puzzle was still missing. "Kitten..."

"He saved my life and now I am this!" she spat, bringing a fist against her chest so hard it made him wince. "I am this thing, this thing that fits nowhere in the world except this house. If anything ever happened, I have nowhere else to go!" Her eyes glittered with moonstone tears once more. "It's so hard to be a girl, harder to be an android, hell to be a wolf...how can I be all three? It isn't fair..." She curled up into herself as if trying to hide from him.

He could think of only one thing to say: "I love you..." Yet the three heartfelt words seemed to give her hope, brought her tearstained face up to look deeply into his eyes.

She spoke softly, almost wonderingly, as if he'd revealed some great secret to her. "No one does as you do. No one could as you do. I can't lose you."

"What makes you think that you'd lose me?" Roger still didn't understand. "Dorothy!"

She buried her face in her hands for a second, and when she lifted her head again her eyes were deep and determined. She hooked her fingers suddenly into the v-neck of her fragile black nightgown and pulled roughly, shredding it lower than it already plunged to reveal more of her bosom. Dorothy then grabbed Roger's hand in one of hers and sliced her own chest open with the nails of the other. That act opened a rift over her ersatz heart , spilling fresh blood down the dark silk of her gown and onto the pristine white sheets.

Roger's eyes shot wide, unable to lift from the dripping wound. Stunned, he let her draw his hand closer to her breast, forcing his palm against the tear, against the clockwork ticking of the small bundle of wires and metal that kept her moving, breathing, singing, sneezing. He could feel the tiny machine hammering, slick with warm blood and oil.

"It's fake," she wept, the tears now falling fast down her cheek, so clear and bright compared to the heavy darkness of bloody oil that ran through her insides, bringing life to the flesh and metal of her small body.

"Dorothy--!"

"It's fake," she repeated tearfully. "Like the tin man's from that old fairytale with the other Dorothy. But it's your's. I'd have it real for you if I could. It isn't real, but what I feel is. It's your's, clockwork, but your's." She had made her choice, without flowcharts, without lists.

Despite his shock, all Roger could think of was how much he wanted to ease her pain, to reassure her, but how? A sudden thought blazed through him. It would be a drastic, life-changing act, but he didn't care, he loved her too much.

He took back his hand from hers in exchange for wrapping her tightly in his arms, ignoring the blood, the tears, the fear. He brought her close to his chest and kissed her face, then made his offer. "I love you," he murmured into her hair. "I'll prove it. I'll become a wolf too, so you won't feel so alone."

She tilted her wet face up to him, her eyes now wide with surprise. "What?' she whispered, disbelieving. No one deliberately chose to be infected. "Do you know what you're saying?"

He smiled down at her and nodded. "We'd be a real pack then, kitten. Wouldn't that help?" He stroked the tears from her cheeks. "Maybe if you and Snowy shifted and bit me hard enough to draw blood, I'd get the same kind of infection you two have."

Dorothy shook her head. "No, it wouldn't work. I went furry only for the first full moon, but that was because I have a mostly android body--it killed the virus after it infected my organic parts. That's the only reason I have control over my shifting all the time, why I can touch silver...why I can't infect anyone else. I don't know why Snowy's the same way, but she can't infect you either. You'd end up like everyone else, a monster controlled by the phases of the moon. " She shuddered at the thought, then smiled sadly. "I couldn't let that happen to you..." Her voice faded as the impact of his offer sank in.

Leon had never offered himself to her like this. To be so loved; it was a gift beyond imagining. She had indeed chosen rightly.

Smith pulled her closer, cuddling her small form tightly. "Name the way then, to prove my love to you," he said softly. "Whatever you wish, I'll do it."

The redhead looked up, her eyes meeting his and softening. "Hold me? The way we used to, til I sleep?"

Roger let his smile show fully on his face. "It's yours."

He arranged her gently in his embrace, pulling the bloody sheet over them both, its stains mattering far less than the girl in his arms. Pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he slid a hand over her heart, over the dark tear already healing. "Feel better now that we both know you've got a heart, tin man?" he asked teasingly.

Her small laugh followed him down into sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

NOTE to my readers: I assume, if you've come this far, you might enjoy another Big O fic authored by one of us. It's entitled "A Year in the Life," and written under the penname of cloudwalker. Now, it's showtime!

Chapter 19

It wasn't Dorothy's soft laughter that roused the negotiator hours later.

"Roger, get up!"

Try as she might, the slender redhead simply could not wake Smith. She briefly considerd dragging the piano into the hallway outside her bedroom and pounding away at the keys--but there was no way the enormous thing would fit.

Frustrated, she pushed aside the black blanket and shook him carefully, mindful that she not hurt him with her great strength. "Please, Roger, wake up, PLEASE!"

It was no use. He simply mumbled and rolled onto his back. A bomb could probably go off outside the bedroom and he'd sleep through it.

"Arghh, Roger!" She grabbed him by both shoulders and pulled him upright, giving him a good shake in the process. "ROGER GET UP NOW!"

"Hmf? Wha? Dor...Dorothy?" The young man blinked confused dark eyes at her, then sleepily glanced down at himself, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. The dried blood staining his otherwise immaculate shirt shocked him into full awareness. Memories of the previous night flashed through him, and his eyes widened. His first conscious thought was that his kitten needed him.

Roger promptly looked up at Dorothy's troubled face. "I'm here, poppet," he murmured soothingly as he pulled her into his lap. "I'll always be here, it's okay." He nuzzled her pale cheek, kissing her, but she pushed herself back, shaking her head.

"No, it's not okay," she said quickly. "This isn't about me. Dastun's here and he wants to see you right now. He says it's about Snowy--Roger, she didn't come home last night, and now this--I'm worried about her!"

Roger furrowed his brows at Dorothy, surprised at her anxiety. It wasn't unusual for her packmate to be out all night, and she knew that. "But kitten," he reminded her gently, "Snowy's done this before. Maybe she had a lot of work to finish. You know she usually gets a lot of commissions before the holidays. Did you ask Norman if she called in?"

"No," admitted Dorothy sheepishly. "I ran to get you as soon as the major mentioned her. I didn't think to ask Norman." She brushed a lock of red hair out her eyes nervously. "You're right, this isn't the first time, but why would Dastun be here about her? He looks so grim."

Roger sighed. He'd been doing an exceptionally lousy job of communicating with both of his girls lately. "I'm sorry, kitten. I should have told you this sooner, but it didn't seem all that important. Dastun had asked me to help out with a case about three weeks ago. He needed a civilian companion to provide a cover story on a stake-out. I couldn't get out of a meeting with a new client, so Snowy filled in for me." He shrugged. "Maybe he needs her to help longer than he expected. I'm sure that's all this is about." Smith kissed her nose, then looked down at his ruined shirt again. "I better change out of this, or Dan will want to start investigating this too," he teased, trying to make his girl smile. Pleased that his little joke seemed to ease her, he stood up, ruffled her bright hair, and walked out.

Suddenly weak-kneed, Dorothy sat down on her rumpled bed. Roger and Snowy hadn't ditched her that fateful night--they hadn't turned their backs on her after all! She'd misunderstood everything; they were still pack, same as always. Seeing Leon had messed her up, confused her thoughts. That was the real problem.

She seized a pillow and hugged it in relief. How silly I was, she thought, to even think that they wouldn't want me any more...and then a distressing notion popped into her mind. What if Kirei had come home that night while both she and Roger had been out? What if she thought they had ditched HER?

It seemed ridiculous, and yet...she had been avoiding the older shapeshifter. She had wanted to confide in her yet was afraid to do so; it had been easier to simply stay away. Meanwhile, Roger had been so terribly busy that he never had time for anything lately.

What if Snowy had come home, only to find us both gone? Dorothy reflected. She'd prolly think she'd done something to offend us, and gotten upset. Knowing Snowy, she would have gone out for a run to think things through. What if something had happened because she was preoccupied?

"Oh!" She couldn't stand it! She had to know why Dastun was here, why he looked so serious. The little android ran down the hallway, catching up with Roger (now wearing a fresh white shirt) as he entered the living room. She decided to hang back beside Norman; his perfect composure was steadying.

The expression on Dastun's craggy face made Roger uneasy. Dorothy had been right; Dan did look grim. The negotiator felt a tiny flutter of worry in his gut. Maybe something HAD happened. He swallowed hard, silently telling himself not to imagine things. Kirei was tough and streetsmart, a good person to have watching one's back in a rough spot. No way she could be in trouble, right? He beat down the worry and greeted the major with a smile.

"Morning, Dastun. Want some coffee? Got real beans, not the synth stuff"  
Dastun shook his head. "No thanks, Roger. This isn't a social call." The major briefly wondered if he'd made a mistake sending Kennedy and a small team to Whitewolf, instead of having them here for backup. Smith wasn't going to like this one bit; there could be trouble. He'd have to break the news carefully. "This is about Miss Snowolf, Roger. She--."

The young man interrupted Dan, his concern for his other girl getting the better of him: "Did something happen to Snowy? Is she okay?"

Dorothy grabbed Berg's hand and nervously squeezed it. The old man squeezed back sympathetically.

"Huh?" Dan was surprised by Smith's outburst. "Isn't she home?" Maybe sending Kennedy to the studio hadn't been a mistake after all.

"No," said Roger. "She hasn't been home since she left to meet you yesterday morning." He turned towards the butler. "Norman, did Snowy call in yesterday?"

Berg nodded emphatically. "Yes indeed, Master Roger. You were on the other line with a client. She told me not to disturb you. She then said she would be staying overnight at her studio because she had a great deal of work. I would assume she's still there now."

Dorothy breathed a silent sigh of relief. Roger had been right. Obviously, her own inner turmoil was skewing her perception of things. She was overreacting to everything.

Smith nodded, also relieved by Norman's statement. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. This was all typical of the little brunette shapeshifter. However, he had to ask one more question, just to be sure: "Did she sound okay when you spoke with her?"

The butler's face grew thoughtful. "Hmmm...I would say she sounded a bit tired, sir. Anything else?"

"No, Norman. Thanks." The negotiator turned back towards Dastun, running a quick hand through his black hair. "So, is this about the case, Dan? You really shouldn't be so dramatic. It's not professional." He smirked.

"Roger." The major's tone was deeply troubled. "Roger, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I have a warrant for Kirei Snowolf's arrest."

Norman and Dorothy gasped.

After a moment of stunned silence, Roger laughed. "You're joking, of course. Seriously, Dastun, if you need her help a little longer, you should ask her, not me."

Dastun blinked, surprised by this reaction, but held his ground. "No, I'm not kidding, Roger." He pulled a thick envelope from the inner pocket of his uniform jacket and thrust it towards the negotiator. He knew the young man would get upset, but he reminded himself that he was doing this for Smith's sake. Roger's face tightened as he read the document. There was nothing in it to directly link it to Kirei, but the description of one of the lab animals in both its human and wolf phases fit her a little too closely for comfort. This could not only explain those mysterious dogtags, but many of her other abilities as well. He found this extremely troubling. The idea that his sweet little Snowy was a government experiment gone awry was almost too much to believe. On the other hand, he knew virtually nothing of her early past. She'd always been reluctant to discuss it with either him or Dorothy, giving them both the impression it wasn't especially pleasant. That could also tie into this. He regretted not pushing her more on the topic. What he needed to do now was buy her more time, talk with her, find out how all these pieces fit together.

As Roger tried to figure out what to do, Dastun continued talking earnestly. "Now, listen to me Roger, I'm only doing this because you're my friend and I want to protect you. Snowolf isn't what you believe she is. I think she's a shapeshifter, and to make matters worse, not an ordinary one. I have reason to believe she's a trained assassin and you may be her target; Miss Wayneright could be in danger too, if she got in the way. You have to admit you've made a lot of enemies, some of them pretty powerful people. I know there's been several attempts on your life. You're just lucky they've all been so clumsy about it."

" 'Lucky,' " Smith echoed sardonically under his breath, still looking for a way to stall--a single line on the last page caught his eye. Bingo! he thought triumphantly. This might be Kirei's "get-out-of-jail" card, if he could play it right. "Dastun," he said in his most reasonable voice, "...according to this, there WAS a long-standing warrant out for the capture of these, uh, subjects--and I still don't see how you link Snowy to this--but it'd been put on hold a few years ago. This can't be valid." Roger smiled slightly, confident he'd just fixed everything. "Anyway, the idea she'd be a danger to either of us is preposterous. She's saved my life more than once--you KNOW that. As for Dorothy's safety, why, the girls are pa--." He caught himself, not wanting to say "packmates" and blow the redhead's cover. "They're practically like sisters! They'd never ever hurt one another. This has to be a mistake."

The major frowned. "So you know about her marksmanship?"

"Of COURSE I do," replied Smith, trying not to sound annoyed. "Is that what this is all about, that's she's an expert shot? Jeeez, Dan, what happened to your common sense? Did she tell you she's good with knives too?" He shook his head, his black hair falling into his eyes. "As far as I know," he added pointedly, "...neither skill is a crime in Paradigm...or is that some new law the city representatives decided to pass without telling the rest of us?"

"No, no, of course not," Dastun replied hastily, feeling his scarred vein begin to throb painfully. He was on the verge of losing control over the whole situation and he knew it. "Roger," he began, trying to regain the upper hand. "Kirei Snowolf can't be trusted. You don't know--."

"NO!" cried out Dorothy, unable to keep silent any longer. "YOU don't know! Snowy would never hurt anyone, especially not Roger! She'd die to protect him!" She glared at the major, her green eyes bright with anger. Meanwhile, the little androwolf was fuming inside. Why hadn't Leon warned her about this? He HAD to know, didn't he? He knew they were packmates, knew what that meant. To not have the decency to say something, anything--how could he have betrayed her trust so cruelly? Whatever lingering affection she felt for him was swiftly burning away with this.

Dastun interrupted her thoughts. "I'm sorry, Miss Wayneright, but that's not entirely correct. She may have attacked a boy in Paradigm Park. We have DNA samples from white animal hairs we found on him. We have to take samples from her to compare." He looked up at Smith as he continued: "That's what reopened the warrant."

The petite redhead stared at him for a moment in silent confusion, then asked, "But why can't you just take some strands from her hairbrush? Why do you have to arrest her? Why do you even suspect her?" None of this was making sense to Dorothy. It didn't fit her packmate's past behavior at all. If indeed Snowy had done this, there had to be a good reason.

The major shook his head and sighed. He hated doing this. "The fact Miss Snowolf physically matches one ot the descriptions listed is why we have to take her in. Did you know she doesn't have fingerprints? That's one of the traits specifically mentioned--none of these lycanthropes had them. If she's what we suspect she is, she's not human and never was--so she doesn't have the same rights we people do. She sorta falls between the cracks." There was an odd tightness in his gruff voice, as if he couldn't quite believe his own words. "So, this is going to be partially handled under the old rules of Animal Control still on the books. Possibly dangerous animals must be locked up by the state until things can be sorted out." There. He had said it. This was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do in his long career.

Roger crossed his arms and looked hard at Dastun, as if truly seeing the man for the first time. "Tell me something," he said. "When did this alleged attack happen?" Smith's voice was almost frighteningly calm under the circumstances. It was the tone he used during difficult negotiations with an especially unreasonable client.

This harder attitude made Dastun even more uncomfortable. He looked down, studying the black and white floor tiles as he softly answered his former lieutenant: "The same night I took her to 'Lucky Chang's ' in your place." Part of the major deeply wished he'd never tried to snoop into Kirei's background. What a mess this was!

He glanced back up, saw Roger silently waiting for him to go on. The negotiator's sharply angled face was a sternly perfect mask, completely unreadable. Unhappily, Dan kept talking: "I walked her to the door and made sure she got in safely. Then I drove home. The attack happened less than an hour later."

Roger's black eyes narrowed. "Since you personally saw her home, why do you think she left again? What's your proof?"

Dastun's scalp tightened at that. His regret for starting all this was making him irritable. Annoyed, he went on the offensive. "Damn it, Roger," he huffed. "I'm not doing this for fun--can you prove she DIDN'T go out? You all live with her. Did ANY of you see her after I dropped her off? Do any of you know what she did? If you've got a witness to prove her innocence, now's the time, man!"

Smith scowled. "I admit you've got me there," he said reluctantly. "I got home around 2 AM that night, and went straight to bed. Dorothy couldn't have seen her either. She wasn't feeling well and went to sleep before either Snowy or I had even left that evening."

Dorothy felt a twinge of guilt at his words, but didn't dare say a thing. All she knew was that her packmate's room was empty when she'd gone in to see her. That bit of information certainly wouldn't help Kirei in the least.

Meanwhile Smith turned towards the butler. "Norman?" he asked hopefully. "Did you happen to notice when Snowy got in? Did you see her go to bed?"

Berg shook his head sadly. "I'm most sorry sir, but I was busy repairing something in the basement. I wasn't aware of your return that night either."

Roger was finally unable to hide his dismay. This couldn't be happening, not to one of HIS girls. He glowered at Dan. "It still doesn't mean she did this, Dastun."

The major shrugged unhappily. "I didn't write the warrant, Roger." While technically that was true, he felt he was responsible for what was happening. If Roger ever found out his role in this, he'd never forgive him.

"But this is my Snowy we're talking about," Smith responded plaintively. "I know who she is. I know WHAT she is, and she's not some monster out to harm me or anyone else. Dan, she LIVES here. She's had plenty of chances to kill me if she wanted to! Be sensible--this HAS to be a mistake!"

Dastun shook his head. "I don't like doing this, Roger. I understand your feelings for her, believe me--but if you try to meddle you'll only make things worse for her and maybe get yourself in trouble too. This is all more complicated than you can imagine."

The hurt evident on Roger's face cut the major's heart. He moved towards his young friend and place one leather-gloved hand on Smith's broad shoulder consolingly. "I like Miss Snowolf too, but I'm trying to protect you. Please try to understand that."

Dastun turned without another word and left. There was nothing more he could say.

Ada Wong cheerfully made her way to Whitewolf Studio, curious to see what a real-life Frankenstein Monster would be like. The driver's license photo she'd downloaded from the DOT site was of poor quality, like all such official images. It gave only the most general impression of what her target looked like: dark eyes, dark hair, pale oval face, slight smile. An ordinary face, difficult to peg as to age or ethnicity precisely because it was so unremarkable. It would match dozens of verbal descriptions, enough to cause major confusion if anyone tried to identify her from a quick glance.

It was a very good face for covert activities.

Deciding to play it safe, Ada took the small taser from her purse and slipped it into her right front trouser pocket. Her long jacket hid the slight bulge. Knowing she had faster access to her weapon didn't make her feel the least bit calmer, however. An average lycanthrope could easily overpower her--who knew what this specially created one could do?

Once she arrived, the pretty Asian paused to study the discreet black-lettered sign on the storefront. She was scared and excited, and needed a couple of moments to prepare herself for what might lie in wait inside. It was the sort of thrilling feeling she lived for. Taking a deep breath, Ada pushed open the door and entered. She blinked in surprise.

She hadn't expected the tiny shop to be so pleasant. Despite its small size, the colorful art and airy simplicity of its vaguely asian furnishings made it feel cozy, not cramped. Several pieces of jewelry caught Ada's eye immediately.

This mission was going to be even more fun than she had expected. She'd get to go shopping too!

Back in her workroom, Kirei heard the front door open. What really caught her attention, though, was the unfamiliar scent of her visitor. Beneath the soap, the powder, the expensive perfume, even the natural pheromones shouting human femaleness, was the sour odor of anxiety. It was impossible to miss.

Curious and wary, the dainty shapeshifter quietly came out to see who this person was. Kirei took another careful breath as she studied the black-haired woman (who seemed quite entranced by a case full of golden trinkets.) There was no scent of machine oil or gunpowder, which meant no gun. The woman, mere mundane that she was, wouldn't get very far if she was planning a robbery. Snowy decided to greet her and see how things progressed.

"Good morning, miss. May I help you with something?"

Ada jumped despite herself, caught completely off-guard. She hadn't heard Whitewolf's petite owner come out from behind the wall divider. "Oh, ah, yes...," stammered the taller woman. She could have taken me down and I wouldn't have know what hit me, Wong thought, frightened. Composing herself, she pointed to a yellow-gold ring set with pink cabochon gems of various sizes. "Could you tell me what those stones are?" she asked, thus beginning a careful probe of her possible quarry.

As the conversation (and the shopping) progressed, Ada decided she rather liked Kirei Snowolf. Soft-spoken, well-versed in her craft, intelligent, much prettier in person--no one could possibly suspect there was a killer wolf hidden beneath the skin of this small-boned frame. Either she was the ultimate sleeper weapon...or Leon's suspicions were wrong.

Wong decided to test Snowolf. "Do you carry any sterling silver pieces?" she inquired innocently. Lycanthropes couldn't touch the white metal. It reacted with the virus, acting almost like an acid and severely burning them immediately.

As she asked the question, Ada casually slid her hands into her trouser pockets. Her right hand grasped the hidden taser. If Snowolf said no, or put on a pair of gloves before handling the metal--that would be all the proof she'd need. She'd pounce, knock her out and cuff her.

Ada held her breath, feeling her heart pound with anticipation. She didn't realize that the pungent scent of her adrenaline rush tipped off Kirei that something was seriously amiss.

The smaller woman smiled up at her, but all her senses were now on high alert. What was it about the silver that made this woman so nervous? "Yes, I carry silver too--all high karat and sterling," Kirei said smoothly, trying to think this thing through. Bias against shapeshifters, especially werewolves, was one of the few socially acceptable prejudices. Harassment of suspected lycanthropes to keep neighborhoods "clean" of them was an everyday thing; perhaps someone had targeted her. Or maybe it was Sweet William up to his usual tricks again--he could have decided he needed her silver to forge weapons like bullets or knives to make war on a rival pack. Since neither he nor his packmates could touch the stuff directly, he'd have to use humans to steal it, shape it, and it would be just like him to use that anti-werewolf feeling to justify the theft.

Well, she'd put a stop to all that now.

She moved to another display case, careful to keep it between herself and the Asian woman.

Ada followed a few steps behind, her hands still in her pockets, watching intently. If the little brunette pulled out gloves...

Kirei opened the case and placed several boxed pieces on top of the glass counter.

Ada moved closer still. Any second now she'd know...

Her would-be prey picked up a silver cuff with her bare hand. Its surface was deeply carved with a series of dragonflies, the wings and eyes inset with citrines and garnets. Kirei slipped it onto her own wrist. "This is one of my favorites," she said. "I made myself one, but with moonstones and mother-of-pearl instead." She thrust her arm out in front of Ada, showing off the cuff.

Wong stared at Snowolf's naked arm. There were no burns, no blisters, no smoking flesh. The pale skin wasn't affected at all.

The smaller woman slipped off the cuff and offered it to Ada to try on. Ada slowly pulled her left hand from her pocket. Numbly, she let Kirei slip it onto her wrist, still trying to understand what exactly was happening. How could this be, she wondered...unless..."Do you plate the silver with rhodium to keep it shiny?"

Snowolf narrowed her large brown eyes at her. "Of course not!" she replied indignantly. "It's a living metal. Silver develops a beautiful soft patina over time if you wear it regularly, even with cloth polishing. Besides, the plating would wear off eventually and look terrible. If you want something you don't need to buff, go for white-gold. I can duplicate any of my silver pieces if you want to special order, but it'll be more expensive."

Oops! Wong thought to herself. Carefully, she let go of the taser and arranged her face into a smile. Kennedy HAD erred, big time. This one had to be human.

"I was just curious," Ada said sweetly. "I love this piece. I'll take it."

A few minutes later Wong left the studio, the beautiful bracelet on her wrist. Even though the lead hadn't panned out, the experience was worth it, she decided. The cuff felt great, as if it had been made just for her, and there was a pair of dragonfly earrings at the shop that matched perfectly. She would pick them up when she got her next paycheck. Meanwhile, there was still that other lead to check out. Dorothy Wayneright, android AND werewolf--she would have never suspected her.

As Ada paused to admire her new ornament, she noticed two squad cars quietly speed past her. She ducked into an alcove for cover and watched them both park in front of Whitewolf. Four officers came out. Two moved to either side of the front door; probably backup, she thought. The other pair went into Whitewolf with guns drawn. One of them, a blond, looked familiar. Ada squinted for a better look. "Leon Kennedy," she murmured. "Boy, are you in for a surprise."

A few moments passed; then Kennedy and his partner came out, Kirei Snowolf between them. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and she had a quietly resigned look on her face. One of the backup officers locked the shop, then everyone got into the squad cars and left.

The report on THIS arrest is going to be interesting, Wong mused as she stepped out of the shadows. Snowolf's boyfriend Roger Smith was a powerful man. Unless Leon could prove his case, the negotiator would have his badge before this was all over.

On the other hand, all of this might provide her with enough of a distraction to get her hands on the little redhead. Ada smiled broadly. Things might turn out even better than she had hoped.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

While Kirei Snowolf had never been arrested before, this wasn't the first time she found herself behind bars. Most of her early life had been spent in cages of one sort or par another. While she had never liked it, the familiarity allowed her to quickly understand the facts of her predicament.

Although she still didn't know why she'd been jailed (the officers had simply burst in with guns drawn and yelled "Freeze!"), she realized it must have had something to do with her being a lycanthrope. Everyone else in this particular row of cells was a shapeshifter, for one thing. The fact that the bars were silverplated and electrified was another.

Snowy wondered again if this might have been Sweet William's handiwork. He had never accepted her refusal to submit to him, and it would be so typical of him to try and ruin her somehow with accusations of one sort or another. She also wondered if there might have been a connection between the blackhaired woman who'd entered her shop so early and the cops storming her place almost immediately after she'd left. Why had that woman been so nervous?

What disturbed her the most, though, was that it was Dorothy's friend who cuffed her. He hadn't acknowleged meeting her previously, though she knew he must have remembered her. She had recognized him immediately, but when their eyes met he had flushed and quickly looked away, barking orders to his partner to secure the studio while he "subdued" her.

That had been a joke, albeit an unfunny one. Kirei could have easily taken both men down, armed or not, had she wished to. Instead, she'd obeyed their commands without protest or question, not wanting to provoke them to violence over what was most likely an error. Whether she chose to kill or merely maim, by escaping she would have only convinced the authorities that she had something to hide. Again, one of her cubhood lessons came back to her: sometimes the best response was no response.

The little shapeshifter curled up in her bunk, pretending to drowse so the others would ignore her, though every sense was on high alert. She would wait and see what was going on before attempting anything. Maybe Roger would come to her rescue. Maybe (if he was indeed trying to get rid of her--the possible connection between Kennedy and Dorothy and ultimately Roger leered at her for one sickening moment) he wouldn't. She deeply hoped he would.

* * *

Inside the booking section of MPHQ, Roger Smith was getting increasingly frustrated. He hadtried calling Whitewolf as soon as Dan had left, hoping to warn Snowy to get out, but it had been too late. He'd promptly grabbed Dorothy, the two of them rushing to his old stomping grounds as fast as possible (for once, Dorothy had cheered his aggressive driving instead of chiding him for it.)

The first problem to crop up was the fact he'd gotten there before Kirei had. After cooling his heels for an hour, he again asked the duty officer for information about her, only to be told once more no one of that name had been brought in. Upon hearing this, he asked Dorothy to wait by the desk in case anything popped up, and he angrily made his way to Dastun's office.

He stormed into the cubicle, startling the older man. "Damnit, Dastun!" he growled. "What the HELL is going on? Where's Snowy? What did you do with her?" Smith was flushed, his clenched fists trembling at his sides as he struggled to control his anger. "You tell me this morning she's been arrested, but nobody here knows where she is; there's no record of her anywhere." He lunged forward, slamming his fist onto the Major's desk. "WHERE'S MY GIRL?"

* * *

Curiosity had always been one of Ada's stronger traits. As soon as she got back to her apartment, she couldn't resist hacking back into the Military Police computer network to see what was going on with Leon's prisoner. Once again, she found herself virtually reading over Kennedy's shoulder as he typed. As she read, she was surprised to learn of the existance of an original arrest warrant; better still, he added it to his report.

As she scanned the text, Wong realized she had made a serious error, though it might have ultimately saved her life. Even if she had managed to knock out the shapeshifter with her taser, the silver cuffs wouldn't have held her. Kirei Snowolf was everything the rumors said, maybe even more. She was indeed her target, one easily worth millions of dollars. She would have to grab her before anyone else realized what a valuble commodity was sitting in the holding cells of Paradigm's Military Police, but how?

Ada continued reading, trying to see if anything might spark an idea. She discovered that shapeshifters were kept in a separate section, that they were booked separately as well...and then she noticed something rather odd. Snowolf wasn't being treated like the other lycanthropes. She was being treated like a nuisance animal, under the old long-unused laws of animal control.

This was rather ironic. Since animals were such a rarity now, very few ever became troublesome. ALL animals were considered endangered species, even creatures like rats. Hence, most were closely monitored, with tracking devices inserted beneath their skin to keep tabs on them. The only exceptions were the few that still survived in the wilderness surrounding Paradigm. The irony here was that Snowolf was the rarest of the rare; if any kind of creature was endangered, it was her. She might well be one of a kind.

At any rate, under those same laws, anyone who could prove ownership could take possession of the animal in question, as long as they provided a high enough bond and kept it enclosed, away from the public.

This was exactly what Ada needed. Forging the proper documents was ridiculously easy. The police files had DNA documentation from the original animal attack, and their lab had already found a match between that and Snowolf. Such things took little time, a few minutes at best nowadays. By simply pasting the lab results into her phony ownership papers, she could say the lycanthrope was hers. The bond money was no problem either. Her employers had provided her with ample funds; what was needed was a pittance in comparison. par par Ada quickly put together everything she needed. It was time to go pay her old beau a visit.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Kennedy was putting the finishing touches on his report when he heard a knock at his cubicle's entrance. "Be right with you," he grumbled without glancing up. Dastun was already on his ass about getting the paperwork finished with every "i" dotted and "t" crossed; the last thing he needed was more interruptions. Tough enough to concentrate, knowing he'd have to face his favorite redhead soon and explain why he'd taken away her best friend.

"You always were so dedicated," a familiar voice purred in response.

That got his immediate attention. "Ada?" He lifted his head, and couldn't help smiling at the lovely vision in snug red leather before him. He whistled low in appreciation. "You look great." He paused again, grinning like an idiot, then seemed to suddenly remember both where he was and what she was. The grin melted from his face. "Okay, Ada, I know you're not here to talk about old times. You've got an agenda of some sort; you always do." He leaned back in his chair, arms folded, and narrowed his pale blue eyes at her.

She laughed, sitting down on the edge of his desk, and leaned forward to offer him a nice clear view of her cleavage. "No time for small talk with an old friend, lover boy? How disappointing." She pretended to frown, and wagged one slender finger at him. "I expected more of you. We did have so much fun once upon a time." She draped her body over the desk kittenishly, then reached out to play with the strands of long blond hair falling over his forehead.

Leon slapped her hand away. "What do you want?" His tone was as icy as his eyes.

Wong sat back up. "You're going to grow old before your time if you stay in this job, you know," she sighed. "Fine, down to business, then. I want Kirei Snowolf."

Kennedy straightened in his chair instantly, managing to look annoyed instead of surprised. "Never heard of her. Go file a report with missing persons." He looked back at his keyboard. "I've got work to do. Good bye." What the hell? he thought to himself. Bad enough he was going to have to tell Red her so-called packmate was a monster, he didn't need Ada making life even more difficult. Maybe if he ignored her long enough she'd get bored and leave.

Ada stood up and in one smooth motion grabbed his chair and spun it to face her. "You give me Kirei Snowolf, or I take Dorothy Wayneright. Doesn't matter to me which one I get; does it matter to you?"

He stared at her, unable to accept what she'd just said. "I...you...what?" He couldn't hide his shock this time. Wong had indeed made his life far more difficult. It was something she had a real talent for.

"You heard me. I know what your ex-girlfriend is, and I know what Snowolf is too. My bosses want at least one of them, and they're not the sort of people who accept failure gracefully. In fact, I'm being very charitable by only taking one; I'd get a very nice bonus if I brought in both. You've got two hours to decide." She stood up. "I'll make it easier for you. I've got everything I need to take your bad doggie legally, so you don't have to worry about your job. As for your little redheaded dolly..." Wong's lips curved into a nasty smile, "...I've got everything I need to take Wayneright too, and you know I don't give a damn about legalities when I have a job to do. Should there be collateral damage if I take her instead, well..." She shrugged coolly. "That's the cost of doing business."

Ada moved to the doorway, then took one last glance back. Kennedy continued to sit there, pale and silent. "I'll be back, lover. You think about this very carefully, hm?" She smiled again, and blew him a kiss before leaving.

* * *

Dastun waited a beat before answering Smith, not wanting to push their friendship to the brink...assuming he hadn't already. Things between them were already strained on a number of points, had been ever since the younger man quit the Force. The fact that Dan felt guilty for starting all this didn't help either. Still, if he hadn't learned the truth, and Snowolf had succeeded in harming Roger or Miss Wayneright...he would feel even worse. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't-- arming himself with that thought, he finally spoke: "Calm down, Roger, yelling isn't helpful."

He ignored the younger man's black glare, and kept talking. "She's here, just not in the usual holding area. There's been a few changes in procedure since you quit. Lycanthropes are kept segregated from the human prisoners--they're too dangerous to mix with the general population. You remember what that was like, don't you?"

Roger's eyes narrowed, but he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I remember." He did, too, quite vividly. There had been a near riot one time while he was still in uniform. One death, and several human prisoners and one cop infected after it was all over. It had been awful. Worse, the cop had committed suicide after going furry the first full moon, unable to accept the loss of his old life. There was no way Smith could criticize the Military Police for deciding to isolate shapeshifters, it made too much practical sense. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders tiredly. "Can I see her, Dastun?"

"Sure, Roger, of course you can." The major stood up, picking up his cap as he did so. He played with it for a moment before putting it on. "I really am sorry, you have to understand that. I was as shocked as you were when this came down...Ah, hell. Look, she's being interrogated by an investigator from the Paradigm Home Office right now about the attack. We already know her hair matches the ones found on the victim. You sure you want to listen in?"

The negotiator's eyes widened. "Interrogated by the Home Office? Why them? Did she get to speak to a lawyer already? Who is it? Wha--"

Dastun shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "No, she has no right to a lawyer, you know that. She's not human."

"But Dastun--"

"Roger, I didn't write the laws. If she were a normal shapeshifter, yes, she'd be entitled. But she's not, she's an animal that can shift to look human, not the other way around...That's what brought the Home Office in. She has no rights, no more than an android would." He paused, letting his words sink in. "Do you still want to observe the interview?"

Smith grimaced. "Yes, more than ever, if I'm going to be able to help her. This has to be a mistake, and the Home Office is only going to make more trouble. You know they'll try to take her for their own uses. I know her, Dan. She wouldn't hurt anyone deliberately, she just wouldn't."

The two men made their way down to Interrogation in strained silence. Dan brought Roger into the attached section behind the one-way mirror, joining the technician electronically monitoring the session with the usual visual/ sound recording equipment and polygraph. The Home Office investigator and two burly patrolmen (both armed with large tasers) were with Snowolf on the other side of the mirror. "They've just started," the tech said softly as he adjusted the settings on the bank of equipment arrayed before him. "All you've missed is Investigator Pierson asking her name and residence, the usual." He turned up the sound a bit, cleared out the static. "There ya go."

Roger stared at Kirei on the other side of the glass. For a moment, she glanced up in his direction, as if she could feel him standing there, and he felt himself shiver. Her face was perfectly calm, but her large brown eyes held such resigned sadness--it tore at his heart. He noticed that in addition to the lie-detector electrodes, they had her shackled to both the floor and the chair, and he suspected the restraints were electrified as well. He turned towards Dastun and asked if they were. The older man nodded. "Standard procedure with lycanthropes," he added matter-of-factly, then shrugged slightly. "Can't take any chances, you know that."

The negotiator bit his lips, managing to keep his sarcastic retort silent, and nodded instead. His Snowy was probably the least violent person here, he thought. This was insane. His thoughts were interrupted when the investigator began to question her about the incident.

"Can you see this picture clearly?" Pierson asked, sliding a large black and white photo directly in front of her. She nodded in response.

"Please answer aloud, we're recording this," he chided her. "Now, again, can you see this clearly?"

The little shapeshifter obeyed him instantly. "Yes, I can see it clearly." There was no emotion in her voice at all. Her calm was reflected in the minimal movement of the polygraph's needle.

"Do you recognize this person?"

Roger watched her study the picture in that quick all-observing manner of hers. She had an almost photographic memory for things like faces...suddenly he realized he was holding his breath. Whatever she said would be the truth. If she knew this face, she'd admit it.

He prayed silently that she would say "no." To his dismay, she nodded again. "Yes," she answered calmly, fearlessly. "I recognize the person."

The technician monitoring the session glanced at the stress readings from the detector, and also nodded. "She's telling the truth."

"Of course she is," growled Roger. He turned towards the major. "That picture, who is it?"

"That's the victim from the park attack," Dastun replied softly. He couldn't bring himself to look directly at his friend as he answered, instead focusing on Smith's ghostly reflection in the glass. The distress in the young man's face was obvious. At that moment Dastun hated himself for causing his friend such hurt. The idea that just maybe Roger was right about Snowolf stabbed his conscience. It wasn't his place to judge, he told himself. He couldn't take chances with stuff like this. What if she WAS an assassin?

The thought was cold comfort as he watched the negotiator move closer to the glass partition. Roger placed his large palms flat against the surface, all his attention on the scene unfolding before him. Smith was very aware of what the line of questioning would be. If there were any sort of extenuating circumstances to be found, it would be exposed here and now.

Meanwhile the investigative officer seemed a trifle surprised by her ready admission. "You're certain of that, you've definitely seen this person before?"

Kirei looked up at him, her dark eyes steady. "Yes."

He cocked his head at her for a moment, then made a short notation on the paper before him. "Okay, then...Miss Snowolf, do you recall the events leading up to your seeing this person?"

Roger's heart continued to sink with her answer. It was the night Dastun had taken her to "Lucky Chang's" in his place. She briefly described how she'd been asked to sit in for him, and how she was too restless to sleep when she got home, so shapeshifted and went out for a run.

"Why didn't you go out as a human? Why shift?"

Kirei shrugged at that. "Because it's safer. I look like an easy target since I'm small, it's stupid to go out alone at night. Why attract trouble, you know?" She smiled a little at that, well aware of the irony of the statement in light of her predicament.

Her questioner didn't smile in return. "What happened next?"

Snowolf described the path she took through the park, up to the point she heard someone crying.

"Oh? What did you do?" Pierson asked, suddenly very interested.

On the other side of the one-way mirror, Roger curled his hands into fists, still pressing against the glass. He was trembling slightly, and his lips moved in silent prayer to whatever god or gods he believed in. Dastun remained quiet, feeling his own heart speed up. Whatever she said next would make or break the case.

"I saw a little girl being assaulted by that boy, the one in the photograph. She was begging him to stop, and when he didn't I decided to stop him for her." She paused.

"Go on."

"I knocked him down and sat on him til the girl had a chance to escape. I waited until I was certain she was long gone, then got off him and went on my way."

The investgator sat up straight, then pointed his finger at her. "You didn't bite him, or throw him around, or threaten his life in any way?" He sounded as if he didn't quite believe her.

Snowy shrugged. "I growled at him and showed him my teeth...mmmm, brushed my fangs against his neck to scare him, but that's it. I didn't hurt him. I certainly didn't want to hurt him. I just wanted to make him stop."

Behind the glass, Roger let out a whoop, then whirled to face the major. "I TOLD you she'd never hurt anyone!"

The technician monitoring the polygraph glanced at the ink squiggles being scratched out by the needle. "She's still telling the truth according to this," he murmured. "At least, she believes in what she's saying."

Smith grinned. "I want all charges dropped, and I'm taking her home. You ought to be checking out that so-called victim, not Snowy."

Dastun nodded slowly. "I guess we can arrange for her to be released in your custody while we check this out. We'll have to get a description of the kid from her first though." He buzzed the intercom connecting the two rooms. "Get an artist in there to draw the little girl."

Snowolf glanced up towards the mirror, recognizing the gruff voice. "Major Dastun? I can draw her for you if that's easier. Just unchain one of my hands and give me some paper and a pen, even a pencil."

The three men in there with her looked at her, then at each other uneasily. Pierson buzzed the major back. "Do you think that would be wise?" he asked.

Dastun glanced at Smith, then shrugged. "Just give her some slack to draw with, but keep it attached. If she tries anything funny, you know what to do." He watched one of the guards reluctantly approach the small woman, warily releasing enough electrified chain to let her move her left hand freely. The investigator slid his pen and notebook over to her. Kirei flipped it to a blank page and began drawing.

The negotiator watched her for a few moments, then turned back to the major. "So after she finishes I can take her home? You need some bond money?" He began to pull his checkbook out of his jacket. "Whatever the amount, I'm good for it."

Dastun sighed. "It'll take a little more than money, Roger. You need proof of ownership."

"Proof of OWNERSHIP?" Smith sputtered, utterly incensed. "She's not a PET, she's a person in her own right, what are you talking about?"

"It's the law," Dastun replied stubbornly. "I don't make it, just enforce it, you know that." He could feel another headache coming on, centered around the scarred vein on his forehead.

The younger man glared at him. How the hell was he supposed to prove ownership? They weren't even Legal Domestic Partners, which was the alternative for marriage when more than one companion or a non-human was involved. The three of them had discussed it, but somehow had never gotten around to doing anything about it. If they had, he would have had at least some sort of legal paperwork to use, proving their relationship, if not ownership...the very idea of "owning" her annoyed him, it smacked of slavery. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and felt a couple of cold hard objects slip against his fingers. He pulled one out. It was a steel dogtag. Snowy's dogtag. He stared at it closely, and realized some of the intricate markings on it matched her DNA pattern from the police labwork.

Bingo!

Roger smirked despite himself. "Here's my proof," he said, handing the rectangular bit of engraved metal over to the major. "Has her name, identity, everything...she's mine." He reached again for his checkbook. "Now, how much do I write this out for?"

Meanwhile, Snowolf had finished two drawings for the investigator. One was a close-up portrait, the other a full figure clearly showing the child's height in comparison to the boy Snowy had stopped. They were almost photographic in their detail. She pushed them over to him, moving slowly so as not to frighten him. She then sat quietly as the guard retightened the shackles on her left arm.

Pierson studied the the sketches, then nodded. He buzzed the major again. "We've got the drawings, and they look as if they'll be helpful. I want her kept in isolation while this is checked out."

The major leaned over the intercom and replied. "That won't be necessary, Sir. Mr. Smith has proof of ownership"-- (Kirei knotted her brows in puzzlement at the phrase, but smiled when she heard the rest)--"...and he's paying to bond her out, so we can release her into his custody."

"Major, she is remaining here where we can keep an eye on her.This animal is potentially too dangerous to be allowed to roam, at least til we know the truth." The investgator's voice turned sarcastic. "If her owner wants something to cuddle, there are plenty of human women around."

Roger flushed with anger. Furious, he slammed his fist onto the intercom: "You coward, come in here and say that to my face! How DARE you--" Dastun pulled him off and shook him.

"Listen to me, Roger, you screw with Pierson, and you may never get her back! He's from the Home Office, for god's sake, you know what that means!" Right or wrong, Dan now regretted his snooping more than ever.

The two men stared at each other silently for what felt like an endless moment; then the younger man took a deep breath and shook his head. "I know, I know," he grumbled, still angry. "Damn it, this isn't right, Dastun. You know it's not right. Look, can I at least speak to her before they take her away, let her know I haven't given up? Please?"

The major nodded. "Let me try, I'll be right back." He left the room and knocked on the door to the interrogation room. One of the beefy officers let him in. Dastun saluted Pierson smartly and said something. At first the investigator shook his head no, but then Dastun said something else, pointing at Snowy and then to the mirror. Pierson cocked his head for a moment as if thinking, then nodded. He stood up, saluted the major, and left.

Dastun waited a beat, then came back for Roger. "Come on, we've only got a couple minutes," he said, hustling the negotiator the few steps to the other room.

Roger threw the door open and rushed over to Kirei. He knelt beside her and hugged her tightly, chains and all, then petted her hair gently. "Damn it, I leave you alone for a few hours and you get in the craziest messes; what the hell were you thinking, Snowy?" She started to reply, but he closed her mouth with a quick hard kiss. "Don't say anything, little one. I was behind the glass, I heard everything. Dorothy and I are going to get you out of this, don't you worry. We'll find that little girl, and she'll tell them you're a hero. No one is taking you away from us. Not now, not ever. Like you girls say, 'pack is pack.'"

There was a knock at the door. One of the officers opened it, and several very large and heavily armed guards came in. "We have to take the prisoner, sir."

Roger ignored them, hugging Kirei again. "Behave yourself while you're stuck here," he whispered. "Don't want to give the mucky mucks at the Home Office any excuses to keep you. Please, please be careful. I love you, little one. I want you home." He kissed her again, then stood up and moved reluctantly away from her as she was released, her chains now in the hands of four of the guards. They towered over her slight figure, making her seem even smaller than she was. Oddly, they seemed to be the nervous ones. Kirei appeared to be completely at ease.

As they led her out the door she turned to face him one last time. Roger caught a quick glimpse of her mouthing "I love you" as the door closed.

"I'm coming back for you, Snowy," he muttered aloud, heedless of the officers still there. "I promise. I'm taking you home." He shook himself. It was time to find Dorothy and plot strategy.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Completed report in hand, a very perturbed Leon Kennedy slowly made his way to Major Dastun's office. The young officer had no worries about the paperwork. He'd sweated over it long enough to know it was thoroughly documented in every possible way. No, that wasn't the problem vexing him at all. The delicious, pernicious Ada Wong was. Once again, she'd managed to trap him between a rock and a hard place...between his job and Dorothy this time. Worse, he'd been caught completely by surprise.

Leon was proud of being a good cop, proud of the ideals the uniform stood for despite the corruption staining so many of his colleagues. Like Dastun, he wanted to make a stand and defy the odds, hoping to eventually rise in rank and make a difference. He wanted to restore honor to the Military Police. It had always seemed to be a noble goal.

Now he was faced with the most difficult of questions: Would it be a betrayal of that goal to keep his mouth shut about Ada? Sure, the correct thing to do would be to tell Dastun, but that wasn't necessarily the RIGHT thing. By telling, he'd put poor innocent Dorothy in danger, a direct violation of his oath to protect the citizens of Paradigm. At the very least, her double secret would have to be revealed to explain why Ada would want her as a substitute for Snowolf, making the young woman vulnerable to all sorts of future hardships. The redhead had always worried that she'd be viewed as somehow less than human if the truth of being both biodroid and lycanthrope ever came out. Leon understood that worry, knowing the prejudices of his society all too well. As a Military Police officer, he'd seen the results of such bias firsthand, and it was not pretty. She'd be seen as some "thing" to be feared, or worse, pitied. Red didn't deserve such a fate. She hadn't asked for any of this to happen to her. Hadn't she suffered enough already?

Still, as bad as that would be, it was preferable to the alternative of Wong snatching her. The mere idea of it made him feel sick. Red a lab rat somewhere, her mind and body used for horrific experiments? No! He couldn't allow that sort of evil to happen, not under any circumstance. He could never forgive himself.

It only made sense to sacrifice Kirei Snowolf to save Wayeright. Hell, the brunette never should've been loose to begin with. All Ada was doing was cleaning up someone else's mess. The experimental werewolf belonged in a locked cage, where she couldn't hurt anyone. Come to think of it, she wasn't even a real werewolf; if anything, she was a wereHUMAN. She didn't belong out here, Leon thought. She didn't belong anywhere. She wasn't one of us, wasn't a person. If Wong really did have the paperwork to legally claim ownership, why should he say anything? Snowolf would be permanently off the streets, Dorothy and Smith would be safe, all the loose ends tied up neatly without risk to any more humans...and it would all be Ada's doing, so Red would be mad at her, not him. It would be the perfect solution.

Yet, there were things about the situation that gnawed at his conscience in a mixed-up sort of way. Knowing how devious Wong was, the odds were likely she was lying about something. Maybe she was lying about a lot of things. Who knows, maybe she'd planted those documents about Snowolf?...He quickly squelched the thought, knowing that was a path to madness, but frankly there were too many aspects of this case that were strange.

Why had Snowolf given up so easily, for example? He and his men had been expecting (no, dreading, if he wanted to be honest about it) a bloody battle despite having the advantage of surprise. Yeah, she'd been surprised all right, but so were they when all she did was request they lock up her studio securely before carting her off. She'd cooperated every step of the way.

He wasn't very happy with the facts of the park attack either. The victim's lurid story didn't quite jibe with the hospital emergency room photos of his injuries. He'd said he'd been tossed around like a rag doll, literally in the slavering jaws of death, escaping only by chance. Meanwhile, the boy had no bite marks anywhere on his body. There was only minor bruising and a few scrapes and scratches that didn't look as if they came from a wolf. Leon had seen werewolf attacks before, and they never looked like this. He found himself wondering what Snowolf's version of the event was, assuming she admitted to it at all.

There was another part to Leon's discomfort though, and one he didn't especially liked admitting to himself. He dearly wanted to wipe Ada's smug smile off her perfect face. She'd played him shamelessly before, using him for her own interests and dumping him abruptly when he was no longer useful. He didn't want her doing it again. Damn, that had been one of the reasons he'd jumped at the chance to transfer back here from Raccoon City. There'd been too many reminders of how she'd made a fool of him, and he didn't want that unpleasantness repeated. There were few places to escape to, thanks to the Event of forty years ago. Paradigm and its handful of satellite cities were all that existed now. He didn't want to spend his life running in circles to avoid her.

It would be so great to tell her where to go...but for Red's sake, maybe it would be better to look the other way when Wong returned to collect her prize...which of course brought him back where he'd begun. He grimaced briefly to himself in frustration, then smoothed out his face as he neared Dastun's office. Didn't want the boss asking any questions. Dastun had a knack for for getting to the heart of things.

To Kennedy's relief, the major wasn't in his office. He placed the paperwork on Dastun's desk and left hurridly, deciding he needed some coffee to clear his head. Still deeply distracted by his churning thoughts, Leon didn't notice the pretty redhead waiting by the booking officer as he walked by.

She noticed him, though, and called out his name. To Dorothy's surprise, he kept going, ignoring her. She was already angry with him, and this rudeness was simply too much to tolerate. The petite redhead strode after him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to abruptly stop and face her. There was no escaping her iron grip.

Startled, Kennedy stared down at her upturned face, his pale eyes wide. "Red? What are you doing here?" He immediately regretted asking such a stupid question. She was here for her packmate of course. No doubt Smith was somewhere in the building too. The young cop stammered a bit, fumbling for the right words: "I, uh...I was going to call you... ." Leon smiled weakly, terribly aware this was not going well.

Wayneright's green eyes widened with pained disbelief. Leon remembered that look, and his heart sank. It was back when he'd broken up with her...after avoiding her for a week. Come to think of it, hadn't he started that conversation with the very same words? Oh boy...

"You were going to call me? Really? Just like last time?" The pretty biodroid slapped him, carefully but hard enough to make his cheek sting. "How could you be so cruel? Snowy's my packmate, you know what that means." She spoke in strained whispers, but her voice sliced like a blade. "How long were you planning this? Why didn't you warn us--oh god, is this why you contacted me? So you could get close and identify her?" Trembling with emotion, Dorothy released his arm and covered her face, struggling to control herself. "How could you do this, make me betray my dearest friend? How could you, how could you?" she hissed.

A small crowd of curious onlookers began to encircle them. Kennedy glanced up and smiled nervously at them, then touched her shoulder gently.

"Don't touch me!"

"Look, we're attracting an audience, you don't want that, do you?" he whispered. "Let's go down the hallway for some privacy, okay?"

Wayneright looked around, dismayed. She nodded, and followed the blond to one of the soundproofed rooms usually used to break bad news to the family members of victims.Once they were both inside, they looked at each other in uncomfortable silence. Dorothy crossed her arms tightly across her bosom and glared at him, waiting.

Leon shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again uneasily. She wasn't crying anymore, and somehow that made him feel worse. It occurred to him that if her green eyes had been equipped with lasers, he probably would have been vaporized by now. "Red, look-- ."

She shook her head, bright hair fanning across her shoulders. "I want the truth, not excuses."

"Fine." This was not the way he'd planned on breaking the news about Snowolf to her. He hadn't wanted to be so harsh, but there was nothing he could do about it now. "The truth is your dearest friend and packmate has been hiding something from you. She's a lab-created soldier, and we think her current job is to take out Roger Smith and maybe you if you get in her way. You wanna talk about betrayal? Your dear Snowy is a born killer, and it's a miracle we caught her before anyone else got hurt."

The little biodroid stared at him, open-mouthed. "No," she said after a moment. "No, that can't be. We've lived together too long, shared Roger's bed, you're wrong, I KNOW you're wrong."

Leon sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Red, but I'm not wrong about her past. It wasn't easy, but I found the evidence. Sooner of later she would have surely hurt you, hurt Smith. I'm sorry you had to learn this from me, but-- ."

"Wait a minute," Dorothy said quickly. "Who hired her? Who planned this?"

"Huh?" Kennedy blinked, not sure he'd heard her correctly. "What did you say?"

"I asked, who hired Snowy to do this? You said, this was her current job. That means someone had to hire her. Who did it?"

"Huh, what are you talking about? One of Roger Smith's enemies, of course. One of them hired her to worm her way into your confidence, seduce him, befriend you, you know, get you two to trust her so she could do her dirty work." He cocked his head at her, surprised by her disgusted expression. "What?"

"That's just it, what are YOU talking about? She and I were packmates long before I met Roger, you idiot. It was my idea for the three of us to live together, not hers." She glared at him. "So am I part of this non-existent conspiracy too?"

Leon felt his face turn red. "No, no, of course not--Damn this!" He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated by everything. The inconsistencies between the boy's words and the physical evidence, and now hearing this from Red...none of it fit, yet the fact remained that Snowolf was a potential danger, a weapon that ought to have never gotten out...and then there was Ada's threat, waiting quietly in the background of this insanity. "Please, Red, I'm trying to protect you, don't you understand that? I know, I know it's all confusing now, but you gotta trust me! I don't want you hurt by anyone."

Dorothy closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head tiredly. "At this moment, I trust Snowy more than I trust you, Leon. I don't care about her background. A lot of us have pasts we're not proud of, assuming we can even remember them. In all the years I've known her, she's never hurt me, and that's more than you can say."

The young man's jaw dropped at that, but his reply got cut off by the door opening. Dastun stepped in, a bunch of posters under his arm. Smith was standing behind him in the hallway.

The major looked intently at Kennedy, then glanced at Dorothy. It was obvious they'd been talking about something upsetting. He assumed it was Kirei Snowolf. Dan still couldn't wrap his mind around the relationship that Miss Wayneright shared with her and Roger, but he now understood the depth of it, and felt profound sadness for what he'd inadvertently started. Maybe there was a way to fix this somehow, but first this task had to be taken care of. "Officer Kennedy, there's been a new development in the Snowolf case. We need to interview this girl."

The major handed one of the posters to the young officer. "Miss Snowolf claims she rescued her from our original victim, that he was assaulting her, and that was her reason for going after him. I've already got a squad of cadets canvassing the park and the surrounding areas. I want you to go with Mr. Smith to a small private boarding school for troubled girls. Most of the kids enrolled there have already had run-ins with the law. The schoolmaster thinks having a crowd of us showing up in uniform will scare them silent."

"So having me go there with a civilian might make it easier to get them to open up?" Kennedy thought about that for a moment. The moment passed, and then the rest of the major's words hit him. If this was true, not only had Snowolf NOT randomly attacked anyone, she had acted as a Good Samaritan, which meant maybe she wasn't quite such a monster. Perhaps Ada shouldn't be allowed to have her after all... .Things had just gotten even more complicated. He could feel Dorothy staring at him. It took every bit of his self-control to nod in agreement with the major and choke out an appropriate response instead of turning around to face her.

"Good idea, sir. When do you wish us to go?"

Dastun wondered why his young officer suddenly looked vaguely ill, but decided to ignore it. "As soon as possible." He glanced over Kennedy's shoulder to focus on Dorothy. "Miss Wayneright, perhaps you should go along with them. A young girl might find it easier to talk with another female. Would you mind?"

Dorothy smiled warmly. "Of course I don't mind. I'll do anything to help Snowy out of this mess.Thank you for asking, Major Dastun." She curtsied politely towards him, then brushed past Leon to join Roger in the hallway. She took the negotiator's arm almost possessively, glanced up at him and smiled.

Roger returned the smile. "Don't worry, poppet, we'll straighten this out and bring Snowy home." He next looked at the other two men. "I think it would be best if we went in my car. A squad car might cause problems too. Is that alright with you, Dastun?"

Dastun smiled. "Of course. Be off with you." He dismissed Kennedy with a quick salute, then turned back to Smith. "Good luck, Roger," he said, shaking the negotiator's hand firmly. "I mean that."

"I know you do," replied Smith. "I know how hard this must have been for you too."

As the two men talked, Leon finally snuck a glance at Dorothy. Their eyes locked, and he could feel himself shrink a bit from the anger that blazed out at him.

"I told you so," she said very softly so that only he could hear, in a voice that could cut glass. "I told you so."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapt 23 ---------------------------

Snowy had taken Roger's request to behave quite seriously. It was wise advice, for under such circumstances it was almost always better to be underestimated by a potential opponent. As long as they were unaware of her abilities, it would be easier to make an escape with a minimum of harm to anyone...assuming, of course, that it became necessary to escape. More likely than not, it wouldn't be; after all, Roger HAD given her his word, and she knew in her heart that he would keep it. He always kept his word; it was a point of honor for him. It was one of the things she loved so much about him.

Still, old habits died hard, and it was only natural to fall back on her early training. As a prisoner, it was best to seem completely harmless. The less threatening she appeared, the fewer obstacles would be placed in her way, and the more careless her captors would be. She made it a point to obey every command without question, as if she were someone who meekly accepted the authority of the Military Police. To behave otherwise would only make these men more nervous, and that would not be good. She also walked slowly as if her heavy chains weighted her down; no reason for anyone to know they were no problem at all for her to manage.

Apparently her little performance worked. By the time they reached the cell block, her sharp ears caught her keepers whispering softly to each other, wondering why there was such a fuss being made over her. Even better, after she entered the small barred cubicle and her leg and wrist restraints again connected to the floor, the senior guard decided to take pity on her and not shorten them the way they had been in the interrogation room. He muttered that it didn't make any sense to him since she'd be alone here, so why not let her have freedom of movement? He then warned her not to touch the thick bars of her jail, since they were both electrified and silver-plated.

Kirei thanked him for his kindness with polite warmth, mindful to be neither too gushy nor too formal. Such manipulation was another art she'd been well-schooled in, and she was soon pleased to see she hadn't lost her touch. The senior guard started to tip his cap to her in response, then caught himself and simply nodded before leading his men away.

As they walked off, the double doors locking shut behind them, Snowy did a deliberate stretch, glancing around her new surroundings as she did so. She noticed there were two video cameras in the hallway, one trained on her, the other on the hallway itself. There was also a ceiling air vent, but it was outside her cell. There were no windows anywhere that she could see.

The little werewolf then moved to her bunk and sat down on it, the wrist chains spilling onto the mattress beside her. She pulled the blanket around herself as if cold, hugging herself and shivering slightly. The movement pulled most of the loose chain into her lap, hidden beneath the blanket. Cautiously, so as not to disturb the covering, she took about a foot of chain between her small hands and gave it a sharp, calculated tug. She felt it give, then brushed all the links with her fingertips to feel for the damage. A couple of the links had split. She smiled inwardly at the results; there'd be no problem snapping them if needed.

Snowolf wondered how heavily the bars were charged. It had to be fairly high since she could hear their faint crackle in the silence. Touching them barehanded could be dangerous; nudging them with the rubber sole of her shoe would tell her nothing. She needed something that was insulated enough to let her feel the charge but not get killed in the process...there was only one thing she could think of to do.

Still keeping the blanket draped around her, she partially shape-shifted one hand. As it lengthened, the entire palm became leathery, and thick white fur covered the back of her hand like dense velvet. Carefully, so that the camera couldn't see what she was doing, she lightly brushed her knuckles against the bar so that the fur barely touched the gleaming surface.

There was a tiny spark of blinding blue light and a popping sound; she jerked her hand back instantly. The smell of ozone and burning hair filled the air, but she was unharmed. She sighed, relieved but still disappointed. No touching those bars! If she needed to escape, she'd have to wait for the cell to be opened.

A part of her laughed at the thought. Roger and Dorothy were going to get her out, what was she so concerned about? She decided to go back to the bunk and take a nap instead of playing POW. This was all just a misunderstanding, after all. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In some ways, Ada understood Leon better than he understood himself. She was fairly certain that he'd get cold feet about handing Snowolf over to her, despite her threats to take Wayneright instead. If he could figure out a way to delay or even thwart her, he'd do so. She wondered if he'd told anyone about their conversation...Wong sighed. The boy had too many scruples for his own good. It would be far more sensible to let him sweat, and collect her prize without his forced cooperation.

As soon as she returned home from her visit with Kennedy, the lovely Asian hacked back into the MP computer network. Ordinarily, an "Assault and Battery" case would crawl through the overstressed system. However, this was no ordinary A and B, and she had a hunch it would be handled differently, even if one took the additional procedures of Animal Control into account.

It didn't take long for Ada to see her instincts were correct. Paradigm had sent an Inspector from the Home Office to interrogate the captured shapeshifter. That could only mean they had surmised their prisoner might be more than a typical run-of-the-mill werewolf.

This was not a good development. For all her earlier bravado with Kennedy, Wong knew she'd have little chance of snatching Snowolf from the hands of Paradigm Corp. It'd be much simpler to get her from the jail, but she'd have to move fast if she had any hope of succeeding.

Creating the necessary paperwork was easy. The hard part would be finding the right identity to borrow. It had to be someone higher up the food chain than Inspector Pierson, but not so high as to invite too much attention...maybe someone who worked for Paradigm's CEO?

Wong's fingers flew over her keyboard as she hunted through dozens of personnel files, searching for just the right person. Most of the people with the best sort of title were male, and there was no way she could fake that...maybe she ought to go a little higher, see who Rosewater's personal assistant was despite the additional risk? She chuckled with pleasure as she pulled up the file of Patricia Lovejoy. This would be too easy, simply a matter of substituting her own features beneath the blonde hair on a forged I.D. badge. As long as she showed enough cleavage and wore a wig, no one would pay any attention to her face.

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Now bespectacled and golden-haired, still wearing her snug red leather suit (after all, it showed off her weapons of mass distraction to perfection) and pulling a large dog-carrying cage, Ada returned to Military Police Headquarters shortly after noon. That was quite deliberate; she guessed most of the officers would be thinking about lunch and in no mood to dillydally.

Again, her assumption was correct. It didn't take long for her to be directed to the officer in charge of the prisoners. When the desk sergeant informed her that the individual she wanted was in isolation, she merely smiled and leaned forward before speaking, as if accidently offering him a better look down her top. She took a couple of deep breaths, waiting for his eyes to glaze over as he watched the rise and fall of her chest, then reminded him politely that this was a direct request from none other than Alex Rosewater himself. She had to repeat herself a second time to get his attention: "Uh, officer, did you hear me?"

"What? Oh, yes, ah...excuse me, don't know what happened there." Now flustered and blushing beet red, the poor man hemmed and hawed but ultimately couldn't say no. He hurridly signed and stamped all the paperwork okaying the change of custody, then tried to summon an officer to escort "Miss Lovejoy" to Snowolf's cell.

He was not very pleased to discover that every available man had been sent out to canvas the city for a child, including most of the security guards who were not on lunch break. Without looking up at her, he inquired politely if it would be okay to delay the transfer. Ada paused a moment before replying: "Do YOU think Alex Rosewater would mind?"

The desk sargeant wiped a sweatdrop from his brow. "This is against all regulations..." he muttered, pulling four different request forms from four different file cabinets. Squinting, he read through the miniscule print on all of them, signing and stamping each in several places, and then placed them on top of the pile he'd already okayed. Next, he pushed a button on his intercom, telling the man who answered that he would have to escort the personal assistant of Paradigm's CEO down to the isolation block. A few seconds of silence passed; finally the officer at the other end asked in a politely incredulous voice if he was being ordered to leave the security cameras unmanned.

"That's a direct order, private." Ada imagined the confused guard saluting automatically in response. The image made her smile despite herself; fortunately the desk sargeant thought the smile was for him. "Paradigm can always rely on us to do what is necessary," he told her with a sort of relieved pride at fixing this problem.

Ada thanked him prettily, giving him one last glimpse of her bosom as a reward as she leaned over to shake his hand. She laughed silently to herself all the way down the hallway, thinking of how he'd again broken out in a sweat. Men were such simple creatures! 


End file.
